


The Dragon and the Rose

by drcjsnider



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Comedy, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Harry Potter Next Generation, Heterosexual Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-24
Updated: 2010-08-01
Packaged: 2018-10-27 12:18:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drcjsnider/pseuds/drcjsnider
Summary: What happens when Rose Weasley gets close to her flat mate's father?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

I’m not a girl with a lot of hang-ups. It doesn’t bother me to break social conventions or act in ways other people might consider inappropriate. My dad says it is because I’m a ‘free spirit’. My mum thinks it’s because I was born without the genes that control modesty and shame. I tell her, ‘nurture not nature.’

 

Despite my Mum’s concern, I’ve never found my lack of inhibitions to be a negative, except maybe in the third year when I set the all-time Hogwarts record for number of detentions received in a single term. I don’t think I saw the light of day once all spring. That was the same year my cousin Fred was Head Boy. Uncle George and my mum did a lot of commiserating around that time about the complete and total inaccuracy of the saying: ‘You reap what you sow’.

 

Nevertheless, since leaving Hogwarts I’ve lived by three rules.

 

1\. Don’t cheat at Quidditch

2\. Don’t eat anything Mum cooks the Muggle way.

3\. Don’t sleep with your roommate’s father.

 

It was a simple code. Easy to follow and remember. At least, it had been easy until a few months ago, when I broke rule number three. I broke it several times, actually, in several different rooms of my flat. What bothers me most is the fact that I’m not all that bothered by breaking my own rule, which undoubtedly says something negative about my character, or lack thereof.

 

The tale of my moral corruption really started when my best mate and I decided to move in together after graduation. He wanted to live in Muggle London surrounded by non-magical people for the ‘experience’. I swear the boy bases all his big, life-altering decisions on what is most likely to further his future aspiration to become Minister of Magic. I don’t think he would have even become my friend first year, if I hadn’t been the daughter of two war heroes. He just rolls his eyes at me whenever I suggest such a thing out loud. “Rose, if I was worried about other people’s perceptions, I would have stopped hanging out with you years ago,” he always tells me.

 

Anyways, this thing between his dad and me began like a bad porn film. I’d walked out of the bathroom wrapped only in a towel, when I’d heard moaning coming from the sitting room. I had a fairly good idea what the sound meant. I’d recently figured out how to steal cable from the upstairs neighbor and Scorpius had become addicted to the HBO series, ‘G-String Divas’. In fact, I’d been taking the mickey out on him ever since discovering him tossing off through his trousers once while watching the show.

 

“Oi, Malfoy,” I’d yelled walking toward the sound of the telly. “How about a new house rule requiring all wanking be done in our private bedrooms?”

 

Imagine my shock and surprise when I turned the corner and discovered it was the elder Malfoy, rather than Scorpius, who was sitting on the davenport, cock in hand.

 

The man didn’t blush at my intrusion; he just kept running his fingers up and down his erect length. Any normal girl, someone born with a modicum of modesty, would have run from the room in embarrassment. However, all I could think about was whether his indifference to having been caught or the way he was appreciatively taking in my lack of clothing was more erotic.

 

“Well, well,” he had drawled. “It looks like the spawn of the Weasel and the Mudblood is all grown up.” I was so flattered by his obvious interest that I ignored the slurs against my parents.

 

“I was all grown up three months ago when you saw me at graduation,” I’d replied sarcastically, trying hard to keep my eyes on his face rather than on what his hand was doing.

 

“Hum… I suppose that the packaging makes all the difference.”

 

If he hadn’t been so mature and I hadn’t been desperate to appear grownup, I definitely would have starting giggling thinking about his ‘package,’ unwrapped and visible for me to see. Instead, I just smirked and threw him a wink, before turning to head toward my room.

 

“Ms. Weasley,” he’d called before I could move. “Surely, you don’t intend to abandon me after getting me in this predicament?”

 

I’d turned back around slowly, not quite believing what I’d just heard. “I did not get you into any predicament, Mr. Malfoy. You got yourself all hot and bothered.”

 

“Ah, but dear girl, you interrupted me before I was finished and now my visual stimulation has vanished.” He’d inclined his head toward the telly.

 

I’d glanced toward the set and saw the credits were scrolling. Whatever he had been watching was obviously over. “You could always just tuck it away and count yourself extraordinarily unlucky,” I mocked. Sometimes the shite that comes out of my mouth astounds even me. However, it didn’t seem to have the same affect on him.

 

“Or, you could drop the towel and assist me in relieving the pressure.”

 

“Actively assist or virtually assist?”

 

“Yes,” he grinned. Something in my stomach clenched in anticipation at the meaning behind his words. Sweet Merlin above, the man was appealing, even when being an arrogant, presumptuous, and sardonic sod.

 

And then -- I swear I don’t know what happened – my fingers completely stopped functioning and whatever grip they had on the towel loosened causing the terry cloth to drop to the floor. I stood there, naked as the day James and Albus stole my clothes from the Slytherin locker room after we had beat Gryffindor for the fourth year in a row, and waited for him to react.

 

I’d not had to wait long. He’d lifted an eyebrow and although his hand had stopped moving his cocked twitched. Sure, it was involuntary, but it was more gratifying that way. He wanted me. Maybe he’d have wanted any girl, who’d been standing naked in front of him, but it was me standing there, me he was looking at, me who had caused his eyes to darken with lust. It was an occasion I had no desire to resist.

 

“Is this helping?”

 

“You can help more,” he smirked, his hand starting to move again.

 

“How?”

 

“Step closer and let me see you touch yourself.”

 

His suggestion surprised me. The few guys I’d been with previously would have been much cruder in the same situation. Maybe he acted calculatingly because he was older, a man with experience, who didn’t feel the need to rush things. Whatever the cause, it made my stomach tingle. I slipped my hand between my legs and began to rub my fingers lightly against the growing wetness.

 

He groaned and then ordered me to come closer.

 

I took two steps forward. Near enough for him to reach out and touch me. His eyes were focused on my fingers. I focused on his face. He wasn’t handsome, but it his features were striking in their harsh lines and angles. His eyes met mine and it suddenly felt like something broke lose inside of me. It was as if there had been a tremendous bang, which caused everything to shift slightly. Emotions that had been somewhat off and had not felt exactly right were now lined up perfectly.

 

I’m not sure which of us moved first, but in just seconds I was straddling his torso, posed above him. His hands were on my hips, his fingers tracing circles along the skin near the bottom of my back. He leaned forward to place his lips against my neck, licking and biting it gently. I moaned as his movements caused his cock to brush against my upper thigh.

 

The entire situation reeked of wickedness. I half expected him to ask if I was sure about this, if I wanted to continue. But those questions never came. Instead, his hands began to guide my hips down, while he thrust upwards. He was soon sheathed deeply inside me. It felt amazing being stretched and filled by him. By the way he closed his eyes and threw his head back I can almost guarantee that he felt similarly overcome.

 

Placing my hands on his shoulders, I began to raise and lower myself upon him. The friction was exquisite. As I began to increase my speed, he dug his fingers into my hips and bum, all the while whispering the filthiest things in my ear. I leaned forward so that my breasts brushed against his still clothed chest with every upward motion. My nipples soon grew sensitive from the contact.

 

I increased the speed of our coupling, thrilled by his throaty groans of pleasure. Soon I too was making the most wanton noises, calling out to Merlin in mindless bliss. Malfoy began to tense, his eyes clenched shut, and I felt him jerk inside me two, then three times. His head fell forward onto my shoulder and he fought to bring his breathing under control. I wanted to scream in frustration because I was not done, the spot between my legs still burned and ached.

 

I wiggled in his lap and quickly became acquainted with the benefit of fucking an older man. Rather than blushingly apologize for his inability to bring me off or even failing to recognize the fact, Malfoy snaked his hand between us. His thumb and forefinger pulled at my clit, while his other fingers stroked in and out of my vagina. It wasn’t long before I was thrashing in his arms, calling out loudly as I came.

 

When I’d caught my breath and opened my eyes, it was to see him smirking. “I must say, Ms. Weasley, you’ve quite made my morning.”

 

I smirked back. “Likewise, Mr. Malfoy.” Scrambling off his lap, I retrieved my towel and wrapped it around myself. Reaching up and touching my hair, I grimaced. It had begun to dry before I’d had a chance to comb it. It would be completely unmanageable for the rest of the day.

 

“Leave it,” he said gently, moving past me toward to the Floo. “It looks good like that.” He had straightened his robes, cast a cleaning charm, and now looked as unflappable as usual. “Tell Scoripus I stopped by and that his mother expects him at the Manor for brunch Sunday.” He then took a pinch of Floo powder and with a wink left my flat for his office.

 

I chalked up my encounter with Malfoy as an interesting one-off. Pursuing anything else with him was completely out of the question. He was my best mate’s father, he was married, he was a good quarter-of-a-century older than me, and my mum and dad hated him. Any ONE of those reasons should have been enough to warn me away from the man. And I really did plan on keeping my distance, even if my mind continued to betray me by replaying the scene in the sitting room over and over.

 

Obviously, Malfoy did not have the same stead-fast resolve as I. Wednesday morning, soon after Scorpius had left for work, an arm reached from around my back while I was cooking eggs and pulled me against the tall length of person who had occupied my recent fantasies. “Your son isn’t here,” I informed him in what I hoped as a snotty tone. I haven’t had much practice in my life being snotty, however, so it may have sounded a bit breathless and sulky.

 

“Good,” he’d replied, pressing his lips hotly against my neck.

 

And because I wanted to hear him say it, I asked the obvious question. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, if you aren’t here to see Scorpius?”

 

“I’ve missed you,” he replied softly, as one of his hands moved up my shirt and the other stroked the side of thigh.

 

I am positive he thought I’d be flattered. “Missed me? You don’t even KNOW me.” The snappy comeback was warranted, in my opinion, because seriously did the man really think he could Floo over anytime he felt like a shag and I’d just cater to his libido?

 

“Then I insist we remedy that situation,” he growled against my shoulder, placing wet kisses around the neckline of my t-shirt.

 

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I’d admitted to him, remembering the list of reasons I’d created about why pursuing anything with Malfoy senior was hazardous.

 

“Let me convince you that it isn’t necessarily a bad idea,” he muttered, wandlessly turning off the stove. Evidently, my lack of response was all the encouragement he needed to slip one hand up to clutch at my breasts, while his other delved into my shorts.

 

I suspect that many people, had they been in my place, would have jerked away and told him to sod off. And honestly the idea did flash through my mind. However, the thought was ruthlessly trussed up and beaten to death by my other thoughts, which were focused on enjoying the pleasure that his seeking fingers were conveying to my body. Within minutes my knickers were soaked and I was moaning in time to every pull and pinch at my nipples.

 

Deciding he’d done enough persuading, Malfoy pushed down my shorts and knickers, and in one motion, turned me around to face him. His lips caught mine in what was our first kiss, and he thrust his tongue deep into my mouth. His tongue was demanding, not content to probe my recesses, he insisted upon a response – pressing and prodding until I pushed back. He was so compelling that when he withdrew his tongue, mine followed into his mouth. He tasted of juice, toast, and something undeniably male.

 

With a groan, he twisted us around and began backing me up until I knocked into the kitchen table. “Shite,” I muttered, breaking our kiss, and rubbing my hip.

 

He just grinned in a predatory manner that set my heart beating even faster than it had been previously. Placing his hands on either side of my waist, he lifted me up so that I was sitting on the edge of the table. I expected him to drop his trousers and begin fucking me, but he had something else in mind. I was surprised and astonished when he pushed me back until my torso was propped up by my elbows. He pulled up a chair so that his nose was even with my vagina. His fingers then began to spread my folds and within a few seconds I felt his hot mouth on my clit.

 

The sensations he was inspiring in me were mind-bending staggering. Only one boy had ever gone down on me before. Unfortunately, his fumbling fingers and running commentary on my smell, taste, and texture, had prevented me from enjoying the experience. Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, must have taken N.E.W.T. level classes in cunnilingus, because I could not string two coherent thoughts together while his tongue was lapping at me. I barely remember raising my hips, seeking more pressure against my clit. He must have complied with my unspoken demand, because soon after I was coming with deep, throaty gasps.

 

When I opened my eyes, it was to see him watching me with an arch smile. “That in and of itself was worth the price of admission,” he teased.

 

I struggled to sit up. “Does that mean you’re leaving?” I inquired, cringing a bit at how disappointed I sounded.

 

“Not if I get a better offer,” he replied, waggling his eyebrows as if he were a much younger man.

 

I couldn’t help but giggle as I slipped off the table to kneel between legs. It was my turn to stroke his thighs. I let my fingers brush lightly against his erection. “I’m not sure that I could do anything that would interest you,” I taunted him.

 

“Oh I don’t know, Red. Lately everything you do interests me.”

 

“Red?”

 

“Ms. Weasley seems a little too formal given our recent encounters.”

 

“What’s wrong with Rose?”

 

“It doesn’t fit you. It’s too Victorian – too proper.”

 

I thought about briefly protesting that I was prim and proper, but who was I kidding? “Why Red?” I asked, as I unzipped his trousers and released his cock from his boxers.

 

He groaned loudly, before answering. “Red is spunky and naughty. She is mischievous and playful. But most of all, she is beautiful and sexy.” He pushed his hips forward slightly, thrusting his dick into my hands. I stroked him firmly, wringing another groan from his lips.

 

“Rose can be all those things too,” I claimed, rubbing the pad of my thumb along the pre-come leaking out of his cock.

 

“I’d love to debate the point with you,” he moaned, growing breathless. “But perhaps we can do it at another time? Maybe sometime when I am more prepared to concentrate...” I took him into my mouth, causing him to gasp softly.

 

Truth be told, I was a bit intimidated to be on my knees in front of him. I’d given blowjobs before to a couple of blokes and they had always been extremely appreciative, but they had been mere boys compared to Draco Malfoy. I worried that anything I could offer would be old hat for some as experienced as him. But when I saw how his jaw clenched, how he threw his head back, and how his hands tightly gripped the sides of the kitchen chair, I felt reasonably assured that he was enjoying my efforts.

 

I certainly enjoyed the up-close and personal contact I was getting with his cock. Its light, stone-like color and blemish-free appearance was fascinating. It was like sucking off Michelangelo’s statue of David – an idealized version of man. At the same time, however, his dick was warm and responsive in my mouth. Every lick, every stroke, every suck brought either a verbal or visual response from the blond man in front of me. It was inspiring. It drove me to experiment with my teeth and my tongue. Soon I had him shuddering in his chair.

 

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned. “Red… Rose, you’ve got to stop.”

 

I ignored that command, refusing to release him until he was coming in my mouth. It was the first time I’d done that and found the experience not as unpleasant as I’d imagined.

 

“Oh shite, Red,” he ground out, breathing heavily and staring at me with his eyes glazed over. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”

 

I couldn’t tell if he was sincere or if he was just grateful to have gotten sucked off. I decided I didn’t care either way. He acted thrilled, he looked satisfied, and that was enough for me. I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I wasn’t interested in true love. I didn’t know what I wanted, actually. But he was good-looking, he was experienced, he excited me, and that was all I needed right now.

 

I started to rise, but he pulled me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I want to see you again,” he told me.

 

“Why?” I asked, sounding unflatteringly confused.

 

“Because I am enjoying this. You are a delightful, surprising, attractive woman. And I see no reason to deny myself further gratification, if you also are enjoying yourself.”

 

Part of me, a large part of me, wanted to agree with him and invite him back to my bedroom to seal our arrangement. But some other part, a part that I typically ignored and told to piss off, took control of my mouth. “Perhaps we should not see each other again. You ARE married and decades older than me. Besides, if Scorpius or my Mum and Dad find out about any of this, their anger will shake the foundations of Wizarding London.”

 

“I was wondering when the streak of morality you must have inherited from your Gryffindor parents would rear its ugly head. Frankly, I’m shocked that such impulses survived you being in Slytherin for seven years,” he taunted me.

 

“You ignoring my concerns and attempting to change direction of the conversation by insulting me is a common Slytherin tactic. Frankly, I’m shocked that someone of your advanced age and understanding would try attempt such a weak ploy.”

 

“Ah, Red, you are a breath of fresh air. It is rare that anyone ever questions my desires or thwarts my will these days. Regrettably, I can do nothing to allay the fears you have about our age difference except to comment that I find you remarkably mature for your years and assure you that I am in sufficient health to keep up with you physically. I can also promise discretion, on my part, so that neither of our families has to be shocked or outraged by our conduct. And as far as my spouse is concerned, ever since Scorpius was born she and I have not lived as husband and wife. Our marriage was arranged with the sole purpose of producing a Pureblooded heir. Now that the bloodline is established, we live almost completely separate lives.”

 

I could tell by his demeanor that he was proud of his speech. It included all the right words to sooth my conscience and flatter my pride. It was most likely completely balls, but at least he made an effort. ‘Fuck it,’ I thought, wrapping my arms around his neck and letting him kiss me into compliance. ‘I am enjoying myself and this probably won’t be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.’

 

Of course, looking back now, I can’t believe I was ever so naive.


	2. Chapter 1

  
Author's notes:

Big thanks to sugarquill39 for doing the beta work on this story; she is joy to work with and brilliant too.

 

* * *

Friday night Scorpius and I decided to go dancing at a Muggle night club. He was celebrating achieving some milestone on this path to wizarding greatness – I can’t remember exactly what he’d accomplished, although I’m sure he gave me a précis on it at some point. 

 

I, however, just needed to take my mind off the fact that I’d been out of school for almost four months and had still not found a job. It was ruddy embarrassing. I may not have been a prefect like Cousin Fred or graduated with the most N.E.W.T.s in four generations like Mum, but I wasn’t a complete waste of magical material either. Merlin’s balls, surely I have some skills that an employer would find useful. And yes, in spite of Hugo’s quips to the contrary, I do realize that lazing about the flat bitching about my life is NOT a skill.

 

Before Scorpius and I headed out, we promised not to let the other bring a Muggle home for a shag. My life is already a sexual mine field, no point in dragging some poor non-magical bloke into the middle of it where he might get his prick blown off. Scorpius, on the other hand, is on some sort of virginity redux tour. He’s completely sworn off sex for the next eight months. He claims that abstinence will allow him to clear his mind and focus on his career. I figure he will end up wanking himself raw before the year is out. 

 

As usual, clubbing was a better idea in theory than in actuality. The place was packed and while I usually don’t mind rubbing myself against undulating strangers, when it takes over fifteen minutes just to order a drink at the bar, you can tell it is going to be a bad evening. To make matters worse, we had apparently shown up on ‘Eighties Night’. So the normally loud, but bearable music was now loud and intolerable. I can be as retro as the next witch, but how many times can one dance to Boy George’s “Karma Chameleon” without going nutters?

 

There was, of course, no place to sit. Scorpius and I ended up leaning against the wall near the restrooms – lovely atmosphere, really. He immediately began to scope out the club for available women. Most wizards find such establishments intimidating since Muggle females travel around them in packs and it is difficult to corner one by herself for a dance. Scorpius, however, excels in this environment. He is like a jaguar or cougar, or whatever type of animal is skilled at separating young, vulnerable, and weak members from the heard, in order to prey on them. It is impressive to watch, but I’d seen it all before. Besides, I had my own socializing to worry about.

 

It turns out that one of the bad things about going to clubs with a male friend is that everyone always assumes you are _taken_. In these situations, it is hard to get men to see you as available, unless you overtly flirt or come-on to them. Fuck knows, I don’t mind flirting, but trying to get someone to notice you are winking or making eyes at them in a dark, smoke-filled room is near impossible. In fact, the few times I’d attempted such a maneuver, my friends informed me I looked like a moron with an eye twitch. So I’ve taken to just plopping myself down in some hunk’s lap and then exclaiming in my most innocent voice, ‘Oh shit, I thought you were my cousin.’ Works like a charm.

 

Usually.

 

Just my luck, that on the Friday night in question, I happened to plop down on the lap of some dark-haired lad with a Beater’s body, blinked adorably, and exclaimed, “Oh sorry! I thought you were my cousin!”

 

“Rose?”

 

Oh shite. It _was_ my cousin. “James!” I squeaked, hopping off his lap and stumbling backward, until someone else at the table grabbed me around the waist and hauled me onto his lap.

 

“Well if it isn’t little Rose Weasley all Muggled up for the evening!”

 

I looked behind me and saw that it was Rich Thomas who had his arms around my waist. Rich had been in Gryffindor and, like James, had graduated two years ago. As I glanced around the table, it quickly became apparent that everyone seated there was a wizard. Moreover, they weren’t just any wizards, they were all first year Auror recruits. 

 

I was completely gobsmacked. Scorpius and I had stumbled upon this club several months ago, when an older Slytherin had taken me and my flat mate into Muggle London to celebrate our leaving Hogwarts. We had all sworn on the good name of Salazar Slytherin – obviously a mistake – to not let any of our magical friends know about this place. We wanted to protect the location as much as possible so that we’d be able to partake of Muggle company without word getting back to our families. I knew that _I_ hadn’t told a soul and I would have bet my last galleon that Scorpius had not whispered a word to anyone. That only left only one possible suspect.

 

“Flint,” I growled, glaring across the table at my old housemate, Ethan Flint. “I swear you blab as much as a Hufflepuff with a new boyfriend. I don’t see how you are ever going to make it as an Auror!”

 

“Hey, now,” Ethan started to protest over the snickers of his mates at the table.

 

Before I could take the piss out on Ethan, however, someone who I think had been a few years ahead of me at Hogwarts, but in Ravenclaw, interrupted. “Weasley? As in Trainer Weasley?”

 

I glanced at James. “Your Pop sure recruited a bright bunch this year,” I mocked.

 

“Fuck off,” James mouthed back at me.

 

Rich hauled me back against his chest and leaned around my side to inform all those at the table, who hadn’t already figured it out, that I was Ron Weasley’s daughter.

 

A collective groan went up from group. They were obviously concerned that I was going to run home to tell Daddy that I’d seen them out drinking and they’d end up paying for their ‘fun’ with a extra rigorous training session the next morning. And, if they weren’t worried about it, I informed them that was exactly what I planned to do unless convinced otherwise.

 

“Get the girl a drink,” Ethan shouted, knowing exactly how to buy my silence.

 

Someone reached for the pitcher of what looked like warm piss sitting in the middle of the table. I knew the group had probably been swilling _Miller Lite_ or _Bud Lite_ all evening, because it is one of the Potter family’s deep, dark, secrets, that James can’t drink anything stronger than butterbeer without winding up spending the night hunched over a commode. 

 

“Forget it,” I told them. “I refuse to drink that weak-assed American shite. If you want me to keep my mouth closed, you’ll need to buy me a pint of Guinness.”

 

After about 20 minutes I decided that one pint could not buy my complete silence and I demanded a refill. This soon became a pattern. That’s how Scorpius found me two hours later, completely wasted, grinding my arse down on the erection in Rich Thomas’ pants, and taunting the future Aurors about their lack of balls when it came to flirting with Muggle women. 

 

“Scorpius, get Rose out of here so she stops scaring off all the birds who want to approach the table,” James joked, although I think he was grateful to see my flat mate show up so he wouldn’t have to deal with me.

 

“Come on, Rose,” Scorpius commanded, reaching out for my elbow. “I’ll Apparate you home.”

 

Rich tightened his grip around my waist. “That’s not necessary, mate. I’ll make sure she gets back safe and sound.”

 

The poor bloke obviously thought I was going to be putting out for him. Silly boy.

 

Scorpius shook his head, his eyes boring into Rich’s. “I don’t think so. She’s had too much to drink and needs to sober up.”

 

When it became clear that Rich was going to protest and James was going to throw his two Knuts into the conversation as well, I took control of the situation. Seriously, a witch can only take so much male-chest thumping before completely losing it. I turned to Rich and gave his shoulder a soft squeeze. “I’m flattered,” I told him. “But I’m involved with someone.”

 

“Who?” Scorpius demanded, sounding annoyingly like my mother.

 

“Your dad,” I shot back with a straight face.

 

When the entire table, James and Scorpius included, dissolved into hearty laughter at my flippant answer, I couldn’t help but join them. Really, how fucking ridiculous was the idea of me – Rose Weasley – in a relationship with Draco Malfoy? 

 

Sweet Mother of Merlin, just what the fuck had I gotten myself into?

 

I stood as the laughter was dying down, ruffled James’ hair, winked at Rich, and reminded Flint he was a tosser. Scorpius then Apparated us back to our flat. One of my favorite things in the world is side-along-Apparation with Scorpius, he is just so GOOD at it. There is never a bump, never a jiggle, it’s even less effort than strolling from one room to another. And just like every time he Apparates me anywhere, I break into my own version of a Sade song in tribute to his awesome talent. “Smooth Apparator. He’s a smooooooth…. Apparator. Smooth Apparator. Hummmm. He’s a smoooooth, Apparator.”

 

“You’re adorable,” he grinned, grasping my upper arms and leaning in to give me a kiss on the cheek. Nothing new in that, he’s been kissing me goodnight on the cheek since he returned from Paris fifth year, he thinks it makes him cosmopolitan. 

 

Tonight, however, something went wrong. Maybe I moved my head without warning; maybe he was tipsy and it messed up his aim, but whatever the cause, instead of him kissing me on the cheek like I’d expected, his lips covered mine. To make matters worse neither of us jerked back from the other. In fact, I’m pretty sure I leaned in and pressed my lips more firmly to his. It wasn’t until one of his hands slid down my arm to grip my hip and he let forth a deep groan that my senses came rushing back.

 

Placing one had on his chest, I gently pushed him away. “Whoa there, Kemosabe!”

 

Pulling away slightly, Scorpius frowned at me, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

 

I reached up to his forehead with my thumb and rubbed until all the worry lines were gone. Someone has to keep the boy beautiful.

 

“Why’d you stop?” he pouted.

 

I swear he is the only guy I know who is actually more appealing when he sulks than when he flirts. “Because it is _us_ , we don’t do this. We are more than this type of shit and you _know_ it. Besides, I refuse to be the one who derails your horribly eccentric celibacy track to success.”

 

“You know, Rose, I’d give up success if there could be an us.”

 

I rolled my eyes, because we both know he was lying. “Merlin, do the girls you typically pursue fall for lame lines like that?”

 

“Well, yeah,” he grinned, giving me a wink. “Why do you think I never dated Slytherins? You all were too sharp. It’s much easier to mislead the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors.”

 

Shaking my head, I pushed him in the arm. “Go wank yourself to sleep, Malfoy.”

 

“No need,” he replied with a wink. “I let a little brunette toss me off at the club.”

 

I giggled and watched him stroll down the hall toward his room. Turning around, I opened my door, stepped inside, and almost cried out in surprise upon noticing a figure lounging on my bed, flipping through my childhood diary.

 

Raising his eyes at my entrance, Draco Malfoy drawled in an amused voice, “Evening, Red.”

 

Closing the door quietly, I suddenly wished I was sober. “Cast an Impreturbable?”

 

He flicked his wand toward the door, then patted the bed next too him. As I walked across the room, all the emotions I had not felt with Scorpius’ lips on mine, now flooded upon me, pooling in my knickers. 

 

It looked like Malfoy had just come from some formal event. He was dressed in black dress pants with a stark white shirt, black suspenders, and a black tie. His robes were draped across the back of my desk chair. He was like my own personal surprise gift just begging to be unwrapped – maybe by my teeth.

 

I flopped down on the bed next to him, stretching my arms above my head.

 

Smirking confidently, he rolled over to claim my mouth, but pulled back at the last moment, his brow furrowed with displeasure. “You smell like shite.”

 

“I don’t know what you’ve been eating that your shit smells like beer and cigarettes, but maybe you should discuss your diet with a mediwitch,” I joked.

 

“Maybe you should take a shower,” he drawled, arching an eyebrow.

 

I felt like telling him to bugger off. I’d had two men express sexual interest in me in the last 20 minutes and neither of them had complained about the way I smelled. Of course, they had been in the same smoke-filled club as me and probably stank just as much, whereas Malfoy smelled intoxicatingly like leather, sandalwood, and basil. His scent would have been addictive even if I hadn’t over-indulged for the evening. 

 

Rising, I stripped off my jeans, letting them fall to floor. I then removed my pink baby doll top. Standing there in my white lace knickers and a brasserie, I could see Malfoy getting physically interested, no matter what standard his nasal cavity was trying to force him to maintain. “Wash my back?” I teased, attempting to sound sexy despite a keen desire to engage in a beer belch.

 

He slipped his suspenders off his shoulders and gave me a look that I thought was reserved for men who were seeing a woman for the first time after serving fifteen years in solitary confinement at Azkaban. “I’ll meet you in there,” he growled, undoing his tie.

 

Skipping to the bathroom, I quickly dug a sobering potion out of the medicine cabinet. I wanted to minimize my chances of saying or doing something stupid while under the influence of Muggle spirits. Just being around Malfoy in the best of circumstances usually had me acting like someone with few brains and even fewer morals, Merlin only knows the kind of display I’d put on while tipsy.

 

Dropping my underclothes, I stepped into the shower and quickly soaped up my hair. As I was rinsing it out, the shower curtain was pushed open and I felt Malfoy move in behind me. 

 

“Fucking Merlin, Red, there is barely room for one person in here,” he sneered, pressed up against my back.

 

“Maybe, if you gave Scorpius a bigger allowance we could get a flat with larger bathrooms,” I giggled, turning and reaching around him to grab the conditioner.

 

“I don’t know,” he replied, latching his lips briefly to my neck. “There is a lot of good to be said about close quarters.”

 

He felt so good against me; I couldn’t help but moan and rub my tits against his chest. I swear that is something about being wet and naked that makes me feel completely wanton.

 

He inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly, as if trying to maintain some control. Taking the bottle of conditioner out of my hands, he squeezed a bit into his palm, turned me around, and began to work the product through my hair. “I do believe Red that this,” he tugged my hair, “is your best feature.”

 

I snorted in response. Sure, snorting isn’t very sexy, but there is a limit to how much bunk a girl can listen to about herself.

 

“I’m serious,” he told me, but I thought I heard a hint of laughter in his voice. “Your hair is the quintessential embodiment of Rose Weasley. It is wild, uncontrollable, lovely, vibrant…”

 

“A pain in the ass.”

 

He turned me around to face him again. “See, exactly like you.” He then captured my lips with his. While it had only been a few days since we had last kissed, like usual, he left me breathless. No matter what grudges one had against Draco Malfoy – be it that he caused offense from his arrogance, his snark, or his attitude of entitlement – none of that diminished the sensations he could let loose with just with his lips.

 

I draped one arm around his neck and grabbed the bar of soap with my free hand. While Malfoy plundered my mouth, I slowly lathered up his back and his ass. When his tongue began to work its way down my neck and between my breasts, I ran the soap over his arms, down his chest, and across his cock.

 

He gasped and cupped his hands around my bum lifting me slightly so that his cock slid between my legs and rubbed against my folds.

 

Dropping the soap, I braced my hands on his shoulders and tried to push myself up a bit to get more friction against my clit.

 

Shoving his knee between my legs so I was almost sitting on it, Malfoy began to suckle my breasts; his hands never stopped caressing my ass.

 

Trying to scramble up into a better position, I braced one leg on the shower wall behind him and raised myself higher so that my opening hovered directly above his cock. He gazed up at me with a grin. My heart clenched slightly at how young he looked with his hair slicked back and his eyes sparkling. “This is never going to work.”

 

“Live a little, Malfoy,” I told him, slowly lowering myself down. I completely missed the mark, however, causing him to growl. “If at first you don’t succeed,” I grinned, pushing back up.

 

Malfoy briefly let go of my ass, pulled my leg that wasn’t braced against the shower wall around his waist, and grabbed his cock. “Do it again,” he commanded.

 

This time he slid into me and we both groaned in unison. He moved his hand back to my bum and slowly pushed up, while I used my legs and arms to also raise myself slightly, before sinking back down. The exquisite slowness of our movements turned me on like nothing I’d ever done before. I was soon loudly moaning in pleasure, rolling my hips experimentally until I exploded. 

 

As my thighs clenched around Malfoy’s waist, his hands moved to my hips and he pressed me more tightly against the wall. This position gave him more control and he began to fuck me faster. “Merlin, Red,” he grunted. “You feel so damn good.”

 

I arched my back and continued to move against him until I felt him shudder. He buried his head into my shoulder, muffling his shout, as he strained against me. He slowly lowered me to the ground and we just stood, pressed together underneath the hot water, trying to catch our breaths.

 

I stepped out of the shower first and quickly toweled off before wrapping up in my dressing gown. When Malfoy stepped out, I began to pat him dry. I ran the terry cloth down his arms, up his legs, across his back, and over his hair until he grabbed my hands and kissed my palms. I smiled at him as I hung up the towel. I wanted to ask him to spend the night, but suddenly realized that I didn't know the proper behavior for someone in my situation. Someone in a ‘secret’ relationship. Someone dating a married man. 

 

Instead of asking him to stay, I walked out of the bathroom, pulled back the bedcovers, dropped my robe on the ground, and slid beneath the sheets. Closing my eyes, I heard Malfoy extinguish the lights in the bathroom. I listened for sounds of him dressing, but couldn't make out anything clearly. I couldn't help but smile, however, as the mattress shifted slightly when he laid down next to me. I also couldn't stop myself from sighing contentedly, when he pulled me against his bare chest, wrapping his arms around my torso.

 

“Goodnight, Red,” he whispered in my ear.

 

“Goodnight, Malfoy.”

 

TBC

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	3. Chapter 3

  
Author's notes:

Big thanks to Sugarquill39 and the Quidditch Pitch’s own Hysterical Hystorian for doing the beta work on this! 

* * *

Waking the next morning, I was mildly disappointed, but not surprised to discover that Malfoy had already left. He was a busy, married man after all, and it _was_ the weekend. I got a little chuckle, however, at the thought of Astoria Malfoy presenting him with a Saturday chore list the way Mum does to Dad. _Scrub the toilets, magic the new peacocks white, go to the market and buy hot dogs for dinner..._

 

Rolling out of bed, I searched through the pile of clothes conveniently laying on my floor for something that didn't reek too badly. I eventually pulled on a brown cami and pair of navy shorts, which although they didn't match, could pass as clean after a _Scourgify_. I really needed to do laundry, but the mundaneness of everyday life holds absolutely no appeal to me. If my mum and Scorpius weren't such busybodies, I would have retaken seventh year at Hogwarts just so I could postpone having to do my own cleaning and cooking for another twelve months. 

 

Picking up a pair of jeans and a few knickers, I snuck them into Scorpius' hamper on my way to the kitchen. He always lugs his dirty clothes to the Muggle laundry mat on Saturdays - it apparently had something to do with it character building. I'd told him more than once that only people who couldn't afford house elves needed to build character, but as usual he ignored my insight. I figure if he is so insistent on becoming 'a better man', I'd help out by letting him wash some of my essentials, as well as his own. 

 

Heading into the kitchen, I almost squeaked in surprise upon discovering it was already occupied by my flat mate and his father. 

 

"Look who popped over for tea and toast," Scorpius smirked at me. 

 

I just grunted in reply. Scorpius knew I wasn't a morning person and at that specific point in time I didn't care if Malfoy, Sr. discovered it too. 

 

"Charming as always, Ms. Weasley," Draco drawled from behind me. 

 

If I hadn't had my head in the cupboard looking for something to eat, I would have responded with a 'two finger' salute. Instead, I pulled out a bag of crisps and began engaging in what my cousin Albus likes to refer to as my most annoying habit - bitching just to have something to say. "Why do we never have any breakfast food?" 

 

"There are eggs and bread in the fridge," Scorpius responded with an amused looked on his face. He knew I despised cooking and only did it when there was no other option. 

 

I shook the bag of crisps in his face. "It's all about having choices, mate. I mean would it kill you to buy a box of cereal once in a while?" 

 

He just shook his head. I'd been hoping that upon seeing me eat a meal more fit for a wandless wizard or Muggle refugee, he'd offer to run to the corner coffee shop and buy me a bagel - but no such luck. He probably didn't want appear too accommodating in front of his father. Undoubtedly, being accommodating to penniless redheaded half-bloods violated some sort of regulation in the Malfoy Code of Behavior. 

 

"Budge over," I told him, knocking my hip into his side so that I could share his seat. We have four chairs surrounding the kitchen table. However, all of them were occupied. One was trapped against the table and the wall, one was full of Scorpius' books and papers from the office, and one was full of Draco Malfoy. So it was either sit with Scorpius or eat on the living room couch in front of the telly. The choice between watching Muggle football highlights or listening in on whatever the two pale blonds ensconced in my kitchen were discussing was easy to make. 

 

As I pushed one arse cheek onto Scorpius' chair, he tottered briefly, almost taking a spill onto the floor. I tried to hide my smile, but failed. "Merlin, Rose, we aren't eleven anymore. Your bum is getting too big for this!" he huffed in annoyance. 

 

I was about to reply that my bum was just FINE and maybe he just had a balance problem from over-indulging on gin last night, when Draco spoke up. "I find your arse to be perfectly proportioned, Ms. Weasley. You are more than welcome to sit on my lap, if my son can't make space for you." 

 

I made to rise, but Scorpius snaked his arm around my waist and held me tight. "We're fine," he stated coldly. "Stop teasing her." 

 

Draco shrugged indifferently, but I thought there might have been a 'hint' of annoyance in his eyes. I would have blown him a kiss or winked at him, but I was sure such behavior would send Scorpius into a seizure and I wasn't dressed for a trip to St. Mungo's. I settled, therefore, on arching an eyebrow at Malfoy, which the wanker completely ignored. 

 

"So, have I walked in on the Malfoy men plotting to take over the world?" 

 

Scorpius tightened his hand around my waist in one of his many nonverbal signals designed to make me shut up. When he'd started developing these warnings back in second year, I'd been highly annoyed. Seriously, why the fuck did he think I needed help determining when to keep my trap closed? I can be just as perceptive as the next witch - if a little hot-headed and prone to acting without thinking. 

 

Still, after he saved me from numerous detentions, I grew to appreciate his cautionary signs. There were probably over a dozen of them, each suited to a specific location or situation. For example, in potions class he'd bump his knee into mine, in the library he liked to tap the bottom of his foot to the top of my mary-janes, and in Defense Against the Dark Arts he would just smack me on the back of the head causing me to temporarily lose my train of thought. I think my favorite signal of all time, however, was when he tackled me in Herbology, throwing his hand over my mouth, before I could tell Professor Longbottom where he could stick his _Mimbulus mimbletonia_. Scorpius got detention for disrupting the class, but he saved me from certain suspension and from failing the course. Since then, I've never questioned the boy's assessment of a social situation. 

 

So I bit my tongue and stared across the table at Malfoy. 

 

"Rest assured, Ms. Weasley, there is nothing nefarious going on. I just stopped by to inform Scorpius that his mother wants to throw his friends a graduation party." 

 

I turned toward Scorpius, my eyes wide in excitement. "Oh, that's sounds like fun!" 

 

He frowned at me, obviously unhappy I was showing enthusiasm for his parents' plan. "We graduated over three months ago." 

 

"We can call it a 'Welcome to the Real World' party," I informed him.

 

"That might work for most of our class, but won't it make _you_ feel like a failure, considering you are unemployed and living off of your parents and best mate?" he asked in his nastiest voice. 

 

Although my first instinct was to run to my room, grab my wand, and come back to the kitchen so I could hex his arse to oblivion, I knew he was just trying to discombobulate me for having the audacity to side with his father. Luckily, I've been dealing with the boy long enough to know just how to respond when he gets mean - I pretend not to understand he is insulting me. That frustrates him to no end and eventually turns him into a stuttering pile of bubotuber pus, at which point _I_ can _taunt_ him. "Of course it won't make me feel bad. I need the party more than anyone else! It might be my last opportunity to do something fun before I have to go beg some random family member for a job." 

 

"Wonderful. It's all settled, then," Draco began. 

 

"Nothing is settled!" Scorpius interrupted. "I know what Mother means when she offers to host a party. I'll have to plan it, make all the arrangements, get out the invitations, and collect the reservations, while all she'll do is open her pocketbook and take credit for the event. Frankly, I don't have time to arrange such a gathering." 

 

"I'll do it!" 

 

Both men stared at me as if I'd grown a second head. 

 

"I've got nothing but time on my hands. Besides, this is the one skill I possess." 

 

Draco smirked at me. It was the same smirk he gave right before pouncing on me and ripping off my knickers. "Planning parties is your skill?" 

 

I nodded eagerly. "My post-Quidditch match mixers were legendary for bringing together all the various contingents from the different houses - the Brains and the Beaters, the Dorks and the Damsels, they all had a good time at my parties. I swear Hufflepuff deliberately lost their match against Slytherin in sixth year because their captain didn't want to get blackballed from my guest list." 

 

Draco simply raised an eyebrow in response. 

 

"Tell him!" I demanded. 

 

Scropius shrugged. "She throws a good party." 

 

"Thanks for the ringing endorsement," I huffed in annoyance. 

 

"Rose, you do not want to organize this. You'll be at my mum's beck and call. Every decision you make will be second guessed. If a miracle happens and it comes off well, she'll take all the credit. Yet, should the tiniest thing go wrong then you'll be pilloried as an uncivilized failure." 

 

"So how is that any different than working with you on the Yule Ball?" I asked him sweetly. 

 

He shot me a look full of irritation. 

 

"You didn't take care of the Yule Ball arrangements?" his father asked him. He didn't sound disappointed. I knew my parents would have disapproved if I'd shirked my responsibilities onto one of my friends. That must be the difference between having Gryffindors and Slytherins as parents - the former are sticklers for the letter of the law, while the latter are more interested in the outcome. 

 

"I was busy with my application for the internship with the Minister of Magic," he replied in clipped tones. 

 

"And the Head Girl was likewise occupied?" 

 

"Occupied with being a Berk," I informed him, causing Scorpius to choke with laughter. Although he had never admitted to me that he found Head Girl, Anne Goldstein unpleasant to work with, I knew he hadn't enjoyed a minute of the time they'd been forced to spend together. "She couldn't have planned a successful social gathering had she gotten instructions in a prophecy from Trelawney." 

 

Draco glanced at his watch and stood up. "Well, as delightful as hearing about your school day escapades has been, I must be off. Scorpius, your mother will expect you or your representative," he inclined his head toward me, "at the Manor by 2 p.m. today." 

 

"Father, I really don't think..." Scorpius interjected, trying to rise from our chair. 

 

"Enough," the elder Malfoy snapped. "I am not going to argue with you. You have certain responsibilities, and while we have tolerated your eccentricities these last three months, it does not free you from your obligations." 

 

I glanced nervously between Scorpius and Draco, fearful of how my best mate would react. His face was taunt in frustration, but his reply was a mild, "Yes, sir." 

 

"Ms. Weasley," Draco said, with a quick nod to me, before he turned and Disapparated with a pop. 

 

Scorpius was out of his chair in a flash causing me to tumble down onto the kitchen floor. "I can't believe you encouraged him!" 

 

"I wasn't encouraging _him_ , I was encouraging the idea of a party!" 

 

"Damn it, Rose, it's the same thing. Merlin, he's so fucking insufferable!" Scorpius shouted, before hitting the wall with his fist. 

 

I immediately sprung to my feet and took his face between both my hands. It was rare that he lost his cool, especially physically. It made me extremely protective. "It's fine. You won't have to do anything but show up. I'll take care of it all." 

 

His eyes scanned my face for several seconds before he rested his forehead against mine. "What would I do without you?" 

 

"You'd undoubtedly be the apple of your father's eye and beloved by everyone you met." 

 

"But I'd die young of boredom." 

 

I grinned and hugged him tightly. "Are we okay?" 

 

"Yeah," he sighed, laying his head on my shoulder. "But you're going to end up hating my mum." 

 

I shrugged in response. "I haven't met a Mum yet that I've gotten along with, including my own. It won't be any skin off my nose if yours isn't the first." 

 

When I showed up at Malfoy Manor four hours later, I quickly discovered that Scorpius had not been exaggerating when he assessed my probable feelings toward his mum. I'd met Mrs. Malfoy several times before, however, in the past we'd just exchanged fake smiles and pleasantries before Scorpius would whisk me away. I already knew she was a proud, arrogant woman, but no one had warned me she'd had her spine replaced with an iron rod. The entire time I was in her presence she never once leaned, bent over, or relaxed. She was so rigid that I imagine Draco had to use a crowbar to pry her legs apart before they could have sex. 

 

If Astoria Malfoy had only been inflexible, I daresay we could have gotten along reasonably well. After all, I'd been raised by two rather stubborn people and had learned how to negotiate around _their_ conventions. As it turned out, however, Mrs. Malfoy's rigidness of bearing was the most attractive part of her personality. She was also a condescending, patronizing bint, who apparently got off by humiliating and degrading those forced to interact with her. I spent the entire time in her presence being treated like an 'academically challenged' first year. 

 

_The Malfoy's have certain standards, Ms. Weasley, so there will be no pretzels or peanuts served at this party._

_I think we'll have to put a dress code on the invitations. Unfortunately, many of Scorpius' school acquaintances were the 'wrong' sort of people. Of course, you'd know all about that._

_It's too bad about your blood, and your hair, and your freckles, and your height, otherwise, you might have made someone an adequate wife some day._

 

While normally I am able to hold my own fairly well in a war of words, since I'd promised Scorpius that he wouldn't have to do anything for the party, I couldn't very well tell his mum to take a flying leap off the Astronomy Tower. So I bit my tongue, replied with a lot of 'Yes, ma'ams,' and offered up every insult I received as penance for one of my many sins. 

 

Despite the strained working relationship between Mrs. Malfoy and me, the arrangements for the graduation party turned out spectacular. I convinced her to invite not only the graduates, but also their families. I begged my parents and Uncle Harry to attend, insisting that Al's and my feelings would be hurt if they snubbed it. One anonymous owl to the _Daily Prophet_ informing them that the Golden Trio would be attending a formal gathering at Malfoy Manor was all it took before the 'Graduation Party for the Class of 2024' was the social event of the year. 

 

Everyone wanted an invitation, no matter how insignificant their relationship to one of the graduates. Astoria Malfoy was beside herself with joy - she was suddenly in the position to graciously extend or ruthless cut the guest list. I knew that the party was no longer a 'family celebration' but a 'wizarding extravaganza' when the Minister of Magic asked Scorpius if he could get an invite to the party. 

 

Things were organized so efficiently that on the actual day of the event I couldn't have been more pleased. The sun was shining, late summer flowers had just begun to bloom, the food was fantastic, and the band I'd hired had lured most of the couples out onto the dance floor. As I stood at the far end of the garden and watched the guests mingling, I felt an arm go around my waist and drag me backwards toward the greenhouse. "What the fuck!" 

 

"Shush," the man whispered in my ear, not loosening his grip. I caught a whiff of his cologne and knew immediately it was Draco. 

 

"Malfoy!" I hissed. "Let me go. I need to make sure everyone keeps enjoying themselves and that the wait staff doesn't run low on champagne or Firewhisky." 

 

Ignoring my words, he maneuvered me into the greenhouse and shut the door. "Stop worrying. The party, much to my surprise, is a success. Better than anything the Malfoy family has hosted in a generation." 

 

"Much to your surprise? You didn't believe me when I said I knew how to throw a party?" I huffed, more than a little annoyed that he had doubted my abilities. I wanted to say more, but his hands, which were caressing my sides and toying with zipper at the back of my dress, kept distracting me. 

 

"Don't be upset, Red. I never trust anyone's self-evaluation. But I admit, just this once, that I'm delighted I was wrong." He grinned and pressed his head against my neck, his tongue flicking out to lightly wet my skin. 

 

I moaned quietly, stepping toward him so that my breasts pressed against the front of his robes. I dreaded being discovered, but surely a few quick caresses wouldn't be _that_ suspicious should anyone walk in on us. "Why was it so important that the party be a success?" 

 

His head did not move from the crook of my neck, but his hands were now at the sides of my breasts, his thumbs tracing circles nearer and nearer my nipples. "It was important for several reasons," he explained confidently. "First, it demonstrates once again that the current generation of Malfoys has moved beyond the family's checkered past. Second, it raised Scorpius' standing with the Minister of Magic. And third, hosting successful social events pleases Astoria." 

 

I shuddered, Draco mentioning his wife's name was a complete mood-killer. 

 

"What?" he asked, pulling back slightly. 

 

"If you are so concerned with pleasing your wife, what are you doing out here with me?" 

 

He smirked. "When my wife is happy, she tends to toddle off to the continent for months at a time, leaving me without her stultifying presence." 

 

"Your wife really is a piece of work," I agreed. 

 

"She'd have to be to marry to me." 

 

I giggled, causing him to lean in and capture my lips with his. Merlin, he was a skilled kisser. I swear I can feel his kisses for hours after we've parted. When I felt him begin to hitch my skirt up, however, I broke away from him with a frown. "I am not shagging you with 'Who's Who of the Wizarding World,' including my mum, dad, and uncle, right outside the door!" 

 

"Surely, not _right_ outside the door," he grinned, his hands continuing to move under my skirt, stopping to stroke my upper thighs. 

 

"Malfoy, stop," I told him, swatting at his arms. "You know what I mean." 

 

He raised an eyebrow and looked thoughtful. "I suppose this is the difference between being with a mature woman and being with someone who is still a girl." 

 

"What?" 

 

"A mature woman allows herself to be governed by her desires. A girl is constantly worried about what others, especially her family, will think." 

 

I rolled my eyes at him. "Nice line, but I was in Slytherin, too. The 'mature woman' bit didn't work on me when I was a third year and it is definitely not going to work on me today." 

 

He looked amused and reached a hand up to trail his knuckles against my cheek. "Merlin, I love how shrewd and cunning you are. You keep me from getting lazy, Red." 

 

I was taken aback, because Malfoy's words were the exact opposite of what most men told me. My former lovers had complained about me being too suspicious, or manipulative, or devious. It was as if they couldn't handle a woman who might actually think and act based on what _she_ wanted without first tying herself into knots to please some man. And if I was a breath of fresh air for Malfoy, then he literally took my breath away with his appreciation for my true self. 

 

"Since my initial plot to get into your knickers didn't succeed, perhaps I should give telling the truth a chance," he grinned. 

 

I had to lower my eyes to keep from rolling them again. Seriously, who the hell told men that the 'truth' was the way to a woman's heart or even the way into her knickers? If someone was going to attempt to seduce me, I wanted them to devote some time and thought into the effort, not just rattle off the 'truth'. "You're going to tell the truth? Isn't that genetically impossible for a Malfoy?" 

 

"Genetically?" 

 

"It's a Muggle thing." 

 

"Of course it is," he replied, with a shake of his head. He moved the hand that was still under my skirt to grip my ass, while the other began to rub my arm. "Since you doubt my ability to be honest, you might find it difficult to believe that I've wanted to fuck you since you stepped onto the grounds today. You might also find it hard to accept that seeing you in that dress has left my mouth watering in anticipation of exploring your curves all afternoon long." 

 

He pulled me tightly against him and ground his erection against my body. "But surely, Red, you can't mistake _this_ as anything other than my sincere desire to bury myself between your warm, slick thighs." 

 

I wet my lips. Maybe there was something to this 'truth' thing after all. With a flick of my wand, I locked the door and cast an Imperturbable Charm on it. "If this turns about to be only about your pleasure, Malfoy, you can forget playing slap and tickle with me in the future," I warned. 

 

He grinned widely, obviously pleased with himself. "Has it ever only been about me, Red? I'm actually a little put out that you would suggest such a thing." 

 

I refused to acknowledge his pathetic whine. "We are on a bit of a time crunch, Malfoy," I reminded him, backing toward a potting bench and pulling him along with me. "Let's see how good you are when you are up against the clock." 

 

Turns out he was good - very, very good. He lifted me onto the bench, pushed up my skirt, and vanished my knickers. He then began stroking me with one hand, while his other loosened his belt and tugged down his trousers. 

 

I braced my arms to either side of my body to maintain balance and thrust my hips forward trying to urge his hand into greater contact with my body. As he began to run his fingers along my folds, his lips found mine and he pushed his tongue almost violently into my mouth. My initial instinct was to pull back and break the kiss. Instead, I began to suck forcefully on his tongue, eventually drawing a loud moan from his throat. 

 

He broke away, pushing me back until I rested on my elbows, and then, at last, he grabbed hold of his cock to guide it inside of me. Giving me only seconds to adjust, he began to slowly thrust in and out. The friction was exquisite. All of my nerve endings were responding to the pressure being built by his penetration. Laying his hands on my knees, he pushed them further apart, permitting him to drive deeper into my heat. "Touch yourself," he demanded as his pace began to quicken. 

 

I slipped my hand in between us and began to rub madly at my clit. I could feel him begin to shudder, so I quickly shifted positions, sitting up a bit more, changing the angle to prolong our encounter. 

 

"Fuck, Red," he growled as I wrapped my legs around his hips and dug my heels into his arse. 

 

I draped my arms around his shoulders and began to raise and lower myself on his cock, forcing him into a new rhythm. He caught on quickly and was soon pushing up powerfully as I pulled myself down onto him. Within a few minutes, the rubbing of his body against mine brought me to completion. Throwing my head back, I trembled uncontrollably as he continued to move inside me. 

 

"So sweet," he growled, moving his head forward to scrape his teeth against my neck. 

 

I responded with something that sounded like a cross between a whimper and a purr. I swear sex with Malfoy has opened my body up to an entire new vocabulary. Whatever came out of my mouth, however, was apparently exactly what he needed to push him over the edge. 

 

He laid his head on my shoulder, as he struggled to catch his breath. I stroked his hair and wondered idly how much longer this fling with Malfoy would last. I assumed one of us would end up getting bored eventually. Draco didn't seem the sort to get involved in long, messy affairs. And I certainly wasn't going to spend months at a time going dateless to events simply because they guy I was fucking was married. Still, I wasn't in a hurry to change our relationship - it was simply too good and exciting to end yet. 

 

He moved away from me, pulled up his trousers, straightened his robes, and cast a Scourgify. "I need to get back to my guests," he informed me, glancing down at his watch. 

 

I nodded and pushed my skirt down, but remained seated on the potting bench. "I'll be out in a few." 

 

Smiling, he lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. "Wonderful party, Red. I've especially love the entertainment." 

 

"You're such a git," I laughed, giving him a push toward the door. 

 

He winked in response and with a swish of his robes was gone. 

 

Closing my eyes, I just continued to sit in the greenhouse going over the events of the day. Before I could clean myself up and return to the party, however, the door opened and Albus stuck his head into the room. "Everyone is wondering where you are hiding," he informed me, stepping inside. 

 

"I haven't been hiding. I've just been-" 

 

"Shagging?" he interrupted, his eyes intent on my rumpled robes and my tousled hair. 

 

I shrugged. 

 

"Merlin, Rose. Don't you have any self respect?" 

 

"Fuck off, Al." I swear my cousin thinks he's the ethical judge for all the actions taken by the Weasley and Potter families. Although Al and I had been best friends for our first four years at Hogwarts, when he turned fifteen, everything changed. Suddenly, he felt compelled to interfere with my social life. There wasn't a boy I dated or who wanted to date me, who Albus didn't try to harass or intimidate. I ended up avoiding him completely our last three years in school just so I could get involved with boys without his interference. 

 

"Who were you shagging?" 

 

"What do you care?" I shot back. 

 

"Must have been someone completely unacceptable if you won't even name him," he responded knowingly. 

 

I shook my head. "I don't need this. I'm not some virgin princess who requires protection and you are not some armor-clad knight who's been appointed to guard me. I don't want your input about my relationships. I already have a conscience." 

 

"Sure, you do," he frowned. "Too bad it is warped and broken." 

 

"Go to hell," I told him, hopping off the bench and making my way toward the exit. 

 

"Where I will undoubtedly run into you frolicking in Dante's second circle." 

 

I stepped back into the garden and slammed the door of the greenhouse shut behind me. As far as I was concerned, Al and Dante were both pillocks. It didn't take a philosopher to figure out that hell was going to be made up entirely of hard right angles, not circles. 

 

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

  
Author's notes: Thanks to sugarquill39 and the Hysterical Hystorian for doing the beta work on this!  


* * *

The morning after the party at the MalfoysÕ I dragged my arse out of bed by nine in order to meet my mum at a coffee shop in Muggle London. I felt like absolute shite. Even though the graduation celebration had officially ended by four the previous afternoon, Scorpius, me, and a bunch of our friends had met up at the _Leaky Cauldron_ to drink and reminisce. As usual, we bought too many pitchers of ale and I ended the night reenacting Nicholas CreeveyÕs breakdown during our fifth year charms O.W.L. when he claimed that McGonagall had transfigured his wand into a chopstick before promptly fainting and cracking his head open on the edge of a desk. It was good for a number of laughs, but I didnÕt make it to bed until well after 2 a.m.

When I got to the cafŽ, my mum was already there sitting outside in the sun. ÒYouÕre late,Ó she snapped.

ÒNo watch,Ó I replied, showing her my bare wrist.

Her brow furrowed. ÒWhat happened to the one your father and I got you for your seventeenth birthday?

ÒI lost it.Ó

She raised an eyebrow. ÒAre you going to tell me the rest of story?Ó

I sighed. ÒI did lose it. It just happens that I lost it in a poker game to Francisco Zabini.Ó

She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. I suspected she was silently counting to ten Ð most likely in Latin.

ÒIÕm going to get it back,Ó I assured her. ÒAs soon as I figure out how to lower the wards around ZabiniÕs flat.Ó

I was spared her lecture on the legality of lowering wards without permission by the arrival of a waitress. After we ordered, I laid my head on the table, shut my eyes, and listened to Mum talk excitedly about the summer curse-breaking courses Hugo was taking in Egypt. She also speculated that any day now heÕd receive the Head Boy badge.

I sat up when our coffee arrived. I typically drink tea in the morning, but I figured IÕd need the edge a strong shot of caffeine provided to get me through breakfast with Mum. Maybe if IÕd gotten my caffeine fix a half-hour earlier, I would have recognized that I was in the midst of an elaborate set-up. As it was, I didnÕt figure out her underhanded agenda until she said, "Rose we need to have a serious talk."

All the clues that she was about to tell me something bad began to fall in place. First, sheÕd set the time for our meeting in the morning when she knows IÕm least sharp. Second, she hadnÕt brought Dad, who tended to cave in at the sight of my tears. Third, we were sitting outdoors in public, making it difficult for me to throw a screaming fit. And fourth, we were at a Muggle establishment, so I couldnÕt just Disapparate away to avoid the conversation. 

Shit, she was good. ÒShit, youÕre good.Ó

ÒRose! There is no need for that sort of language.Ó

ÒSorry, Mum. What did you want to tell me?Ó I thought about trying to avoid the ÔtalkÕ by distracting her, but I had no outrages or gossip that was interesting enough to redirect her attention.

ÒYouÕre father and I are going to cut you off.Ó

ÒCut me off? ItÕs a little late to decide IÕm too tall, isnÕt it?Ó I laughed lamely. I hoped that making Mum chuckle might convince her to abandon whatever plan she had devised to Ôstraighten me outÕ. Unfortunately, that didnÕt happen. I think she developed some sort of immunity to my charming banter the moment I was sorted into Slytherin.

ÒWe are cutting you off from our Gringotts account. If you need money in the future, youÕll have to earn it.Ó

Fuck. ÒFuck.Ó

ÒRose! Language!Ó

ÒSorry. I just can't believe my parents have no qualms about leaving me Knutless to freeze to death in the streets.Ó  
Ê  
She rolled her eyes. ÒIt is August, Rose.Ê There is no possible way that you can freeze to death. Besides, we are not forcing you into the streets.Ê You are always welcome to move home.Ê Of course, if you aren't working you'll be expected to take on the household chores, there will be a curfew, and no visitors of the opposite sex allowed unless your father or me is home.Ó

She had to be kidding. ÒMerlinÕs balls, Mum, IÕm an adult!Ó

ÒAdults take can take care of themselves. You have shown neither the ability, nor initiative to do that.Ó

ÒMum, itÕs not easy finding jobs for which IÕm qualified.Ó

ÒPerhaps, if youÕd taken your N.E.W.T.s more seriously, you wouldnÕt be in this position,Ó she replied, in what I tended to think of as her Prefect voice. 

I swear my mum never met a test she didnÕt like. I bet sheÕd even support new Ministry regulations requiring wizards to pass an exam before they were allowed to wipe their own arse or pick their noses. 

ÒDad, Uncle George, and Uncle Harry donÕt have _any_ N.E.W.T.s and they are some of the most successful men in wizarding England.Ó

ÒDonÕt you think the situations are a little different?Ó When I didnÕt look suitably cognizant of her point, she got more detailed. ÒAfter all, your uncle George was run out of school by a power-hungry school administrator who was trying to cover up VoldemortÕs return, while your father and Harry were busy hunting down rogue Death Eaters following the end of the Second Wizarding War. You, on the other hand, were too busy socializing to find time to study.Ó

ÒHey, I got an E in Muggle Studies,Ó I reminded her.  
Ê  
ÒStand back, I'll alert the _Daily Prophet_.Ó   
Ê  
I hate it when Mum is sarcastic, mostly because she is so damn good at it. ÒWe bothÊknow that my greatest skill is disappointing you and Dad. Unfortunately, finding a profession that will pay me to do that is a little more difficult than it might sound.Ó

"Rose, you do not disappoint us."  
Ê  
"Oh, please!ÓÊ Seriously, if I had a Galleon for every time she sat me down and gave me the ÔYour Father and I Are Disappointed in You SpeechÕ, I could live like royalty. ÒHow can you even say that with a straight face?"  
Ê  
"Years of practice."

ÊOuch. That one stung. I couldnÕt believe that she still got to me so easily. Although I knew my mum loved me, at the same time we had a volatile relationship. She always wanted more from me. Bloody hell, she wanted more _for_ me Ð more than I wanted for myself Ð and that drove her crazy. Our priorities were completely opposite. For her, grades, hard work, integrity, and courage were at the top of the list, whereas I valued laughing, having a good time, and being able to do what I wanted. Moreover, it pissed me off that those qualities she detested in me were the exact same qualities she embraced, tolerated, and loved in Dad.

Hugo thought the problem was that I got her tenacious personality and DadÕs bad habits. Whereas, if IÕd been more laid back and easy-going, then she could have nagged me into being a better person just like she had Dad. Instead, we rubbed each other the wrong way because we were both immovable forces of nature. Hugo is a tool, but perceptive as all fuck.

ÒHave you even applied for a job?Ó

ÒWell, I guess that depends on what you mean by applied,Ó I tried to joke. I really could use a spell that makes it impossible for me to talk without first thinking.

She shook her head and then finished her drink. ÒRose, it is time you grew up and assumed adult responsibilities.Ó 

ÒShite, Mum. DidnÕt you know that Ôtough loveÕ went out in the nineties?Ó

This time she didnÕt even bother to correct my language. Instead, she just passed me ten Galleons. ÒThat should get you through the end of the month. After that, you can either move home or start supporting yourself.Ó She stood, walked around the table, and leaned over to give me a one-armed hug. ÒIt might not feel like it, but in the long run this is for the best.Ó

ÒYeah.Ó

ÒI love you, Rose.Ó Her voice sounded a little shaky, but I refused to look up into her face.

ÒLove you too, Mum,Ó I whispered, watching as she walked briskly down the street.

-0-0-0-

ÒThis is the worst day of my life,Ó I groaned before flopping my head back against the couch cushions, propping my feet on the coffee table, and doing my best to look pathetic.

Neither Scorpius nor our former housemate Francisco Zabini looked at all sympathetic.

ÒI thought the worst day of your life was in second year, when your father took away your broom for four months after you dropped dung bombs from it on Hogsmeade residents?Ó Zabini drawled in his condescending manner.

ÒI thought the worst day in your life was last summer when your dad caught the RavenclawÕs Beater sneaking out of your bedroom,Ó Scorpius taunted.

This little bit of information made Zabini sit up straight in his chair. ÒWhat?!? IÕve never heard this story.Ó

ÒThatÕs because it was _supposed_ to be a secret,Ó I growled, reaching over and smacking Scorpius on the arm with the back of my hand.

ÒSince when do we keep secrets about our sex lives from each other?Ó Zabini asked, looking genuinely hurt.

ÒSince we became adults?Ó

ÒBut I was your first!Ó he huffed in annoyance. ÒYou owe me. I demand that you reveal all your _adult_ sexual escapades immediately!Ó

Scorpius laughed and I just rolled my eyes. IÕd actually started a rumor back in fifth year that Francesco Zabini had taken my virginity. I did it all in the interest of self-preservation after it came to my attention that several Slytherin sixth and seventh year boys had a bet on who would first get me into bed. The lie about me and Zabini had put an end to the betting, but had driven Scorpius into a rage. It took me several weeks after that to calm him down and restore our friendship.

Ironically, Zabini did become my first sexual experience the summer before sixth year. However, immediately after doing the deed we made an Unbreakable Vow never to tell anyone about it and never to repeat the experience.

ÒYou both drive me mental,Ó Zabini complained. ÒNo one who isnÕt shagging regularly should be as close to each other as you two are.Ó

ÒWhat makes you think we arenÕt shagging?Ó Scorpius asked with a smirk, before leaning over, grabbing my hand, and pressing his lips to my palm. I swear the boy loves to ruffle feathers and no one has more feathers than Francesco.

ÒSpare me your untruths,Ó Zabini replied, flicking an imaginary piece of lint off the sleeve of his robe. ÒIf you were shagging Rose this room wouldnÕt be filled with all the sexual tension you two drag around.Ó

ÒHey!Ó I broke in, sick of ZabiniÕs speculations about my sexual behavior. ÒThe only sexual tension in the room is between you and Scorpius. Just leave me the hell out of it.Ó

Both Scorpius and Zabini glowered at me. It wasnÕt the first time IÕd suggested the possibility of something physical going on between them. I would have bet good money on the fact that Zabini swung both ways, but whenever I teased Scorpius about buggering some bloke, his face turns slightly green. I doubt there is a straighter man in wizarding London than Scorpius Malfoy Ð except maybe my dad.

ÒRose, someday you are going to go too far,Ó Zabini warned me. I could tell he was pouting because Scorpius didnÕt look thrilled at the prospect of Francesco lusting after him.

ÒMaybe we should have a threesome to just clear the air,Ó I taunted. There is no better way to regain control of a situation than to suggest some kinky sex Ð even if you donÕt have any intention of following through with the offer.

That caused both Scorpius and Zabini to perk up, although I knew neither of them would take me up on it. It was the middle of the afternoon, weÕd all just eaten, and no one had had time to pluck or shave. Thank goodness for their vanity. I needed to plan not fuck.

Scorpius gave me a slow smile. ÒYouÕre such a bloody tease.Ó

ÒA menace to society is what she is,Ó Zabini complained.

ÒCan we get back to my problems? How am I going to support myself now that my parents are cutting me off?Ó 

ÒHey, if Rose has to move back home, can I have her room?Ó

ÒFuck off, Zabini,Ó I growled before chucking a throw pillow at him. Unfortunately, I wasnÕt really in the mood to do any damage and it landed a good two feet to the right of his chair.

ÒI donÕt see why you need any money,Ó Scorpius told me. WeÕd already talked about this during lunch, but he wouldnÕt let it go. ÒI can cover all the rent, utility, and food costs.Ó

ÒOh thanks, Dad!Ó I replied in the snottiest tone I could muster. ÒDo I get an allowance too?Ó

ÒOnly if you do your chores, sweetheart,Ó he grinned. The smug bastard was enjoying my misery way too much. I swear the moment I get my life on track IÕm going to find myself a new best friend.

ÒIÕm not going to let you support me,Ó I spat, wishing I hadnÕt wasted the throw pillow on Zabini.

ÒWhy not let him support you?Ó Francesco asked, mockingly. ÒIsnÕt that been the way women have behaved for thousands of years Ð you let yourselves be taken care of by a man? Why even bother trying to fight history and biology?Ó

I turned toward Scorpius. ÒRemind me why are we friends with him?Ó

Scorpius shrugged. ÒIÕm not sure we are. I think heÕs kind of like a red and itchy rash that you canÕt get rid of unless you cut off an arm.Ó

ÒWell, let me borrow your wand, because amputation isnÕt sounding too bad right now,Ó I replied, glaring at Zabini.

Francesco rolled his eyes, but held up his hands in surrender. Zabini had been the third wheel in ScorpiusÕ and my friendship since first year. Despite his uptight and snobby demeanor, weÕd never tried to freeze him out. In fact, having him around made things easier for the two of us since we didnÕt have to constantly try to prove to the world that we werenÕt a couple. Sometimes, however, I think Zabini resented that fact that he always came in second for the both of us.

ÒSeriously, Rose, what does it matter if I cover all the rent and other flat expenses?Ó Scorpius asked.

ÒItÕs not your responsibility and it looks bad. Everyone will assume we are screwing around, which normally I donÕt care about, but I _know_ youÕll get all antsy about it. Before the month is out, youÕll be trying to Ômake me behaveÕ and shit.Ó 

ÒI try and make you behave now. How would this be a change in our relationship?Ó

Zabini and I both snorted in response to ScorpiusÕs question. Sometimes, I wonder how the boy got sorted in Slytherin. He could be so much more ruthless and diabolical if he didnÕt let weaknesses like friendship and good intentions get in his way. ÒIt would _change_ because youÕd be controlling the purse strings. Instead of just bitching at me about my behavior you could threaten to withhold the rent money or my clothing stipend until I caved into your undoubtedly irrational demands.Ó

Scorpius initially looked offended, but this quickly gave way to a more speculative expression, which he couldnÕt hide. 

ÒPathetic,Ó Zabini muttered under his breath. 

ÒIt is time I grow up and get a job,Ó I announced, speaking with an assurance that I did not feel.

Instead of applauding my new more adult manner, Zabini returned to his earlier beastly attitude. ÒSeriously, I want to move in after Rose fails to find gainful employment.Ó

Merlin, sometimes I wish IÕd been sorted into Hufflepuff. At least then, my friends would sit around trying to help me when I was in trouble instead of looking for angles to make my situation benefit themselves. ÒBloody wanker,Ó I hissed.

He ignored me. ÒCan I _please_ move in?Ó he asked again.

ÒRose will find a job,Ó Scorpius replied, not sounding very confident about his pronouncement.

ÒI will?Ó

ÒProbably,Ó he shrugged. 

I sighed deeply and let Scorpius drape his arm around my shoulders.

ÒMerlin, you two make me sick,Ó Zabini drawled. ÒThe solution to this ÔdilemmaÕ is so simple that even someone who only got one N.E.W.T. in Muggle Studies could figure it out.Ó

ÒHey!Ó I exclaimed. ÒI thought we had a deal. You wouldnÕt bring up my N.E.W.T. scores and I would stop talking about how your forehead breaks out every time the humidity is above 80%.Ó

ÒMy forehead does _not_ break out!Ó he huffed. ÒNow do you want to hear my idea or not?Ó

ÒNot,Ó I grumbled, still pissed that he had been trying to squirm his way into _my_ room of the flat.Ê ÒI donÕt want any part of whatever asinine, socially corrupt, morally bankrupt idea youÕve devised.Ó

ÒFine,Ó he smiled lazily, stretching is long legs out in front of him. ÒI hope you like living with your parents again.Ó

I bit my lip and looked up at Scorpius. IÕd let him deal with Zabini. ÒWhatÕs do you see as the solution, Francesco?Ó

ÒYour father owns a company, Rose needs a job, have him hire her,Ó he responded, looking inordinately pleased at his suggestion.

ÒOh, that is a good idea. Do you think I could be a Vice-President?Ó I joked. However, I immediately realized that working for Malfoy Industries could solve most of my problems. It would be the perfect solution to my need for a job.

ÒYou are not working for my father,Ó 

ÒWell, probably not directly. You can get me a job so far down the chain of command he wouldnÕt even have to know I was there.Ó

ÒHeÕd know,Ó Scorpius grumbled. ÒHeÕd see this as some huge opportunity to keep track of me through you. He probably would also use it as a chance to cause your parents some grief, since heÕd have their daughter at his beck and call.Ó

ÒWell, IÕm a bit up for causing my parents some grief right now too, so that last issue doesnÕt bother me. What if I promise that IÕd never talk about you to your father? Would you get me a job then?Ó

ÒNo! Rose, you have no idea how manipulative he can be. He lives to scheme. You wonÕt be there a month and heÕll already have some elaborate plan in place to use you to accomplish whatever it is he wants.Ó Scorpius ran a hand through his hair. ÒWhy do you think I refused to work for him?Ó

ÒBecause you want to be Minister of Magic,Ó Zabini answered, enjoying ScorpiusÕs discomfort.

ÒShove off, Francesco. I donÕt work for my father because heÕs a controlling bastard and thatÕs why I donÕt want you working for him either, Rose.Ó

My heart ached for him. I knew heÕd spent most of his life trying to distinguish himself from his father Ð trying to prove that he wasnÕt a mini-Draco Malfoy. I also was aware that Draco had not made it easy for him and had shown his displeasure and disappointment every time Scorpius tried to move away from his familyÕs heritage. But fuck it all, I wasnÕt a pawn for Scorpius to use against his father, any more than I would allow myself to become a pawn for Draco to use against his son.

ÒPlease, Scorpius!Ê Set me up with an interview at your father's company. I just need an entry level job. I wonÕt work there long, just until I get a little experience.Ó  
Ê  
He sighed and looked pained, but I refused to back down. ÒFine, IÕll set up an interview. However, donÕt be surprised if they donÕt hire you. IÕm pretty sure that a recommendation from me doesnÕt go far with the executives of Malfoy Industries.Ó

I threw myself in his arms. ÒThank you, thank you!Ó I whispered in his ear, as I stroked his back and promised myself that he would never regret having done this for me.

-0-0-0-

I felt amazing! Seriously. A little over a week after my mum had issued her ultimatum about me taking care of myself, IÕd found a good paying job where I didnÕt have to wear a funny hat or work nights and weekends. Moreover, once my parents found out who my employer was they would certainly lose their cool and then I could sit back calmly and look like the mature one in our family. That would definitely be a first.

It was all working out so deliciously that IÕd even managed to make it to work on time for the first three days of my employment. I had been hired as a media relations assistant for the P.R. department. So far my job only consisted of examining the _Daily Prophet_ and other Wizarding publications for any mention of Malfoy Industries or its competitors, but I hoped that eventually things would get a bit more exciting.

By Wednesday evening, IÕd become painfully familiar with the meaning of the Muggle saying, ÒBe careful what you wish for.Ó I had been called into a conference room that morning to take notes while the head of the P.R. department made a presentation to members of the senior management staff. As I listened to my boss rattle away about a new promotional plan for the company, Draco stepped into the room followed by his secretary.

Everyone leapt to their feet. ÒGood morning, Mr. Malfoy,Ó they all chirped before sitting back down.

Malfoy sat at the head of the table, unrolled a scroll of parchment, and motioned for the presentation to continue. He hadnÕt seen me. For some stupid reason, I was looking forward to him noticing me. I liked the idea of surprising him for once. Yes, IÕm an idiot for thinking that he might find the situation of me working for him amusing. Instead, he reacted like I had burned down his house, bludgeoned his wife, and spit on his Firebolt. ÒWhat are you doing here?Ó he abruptly interrupted the meeting, upon catching sight of me.

I blinked and looked behind me, unsure at first whether or not he was speaking to me. It took me about four seconds to figure out that he was. ÒUrÉ I work here.Ó

ÒThe hell you do,Ó he barked, before turning to one of his managers. ÒGet rid of her.Ó

ÒWhat?!Ó I exclaimed, completely shocked by his attitude.

Apparently everyone else in the room was shocked as well, because no one jumped up to do his bidding.

ÒMr. Malfoy, that is Rose WeasleyÑÓ

ÒI know who the fuck she is. Get rid of her now!Ó he barked.

I heard his secretary whisper my parentsÕ names. ÒI donÕt give a bloody fuck. Smith,Ó he growled toward on the executives sitting at the table, Òescort her to the front door now!Ó

Before I could protest, some uptight prig had grabbed a hold of my elbow and was pulling me up from my seat. ÒBack off, wanker,Ó I hissed, jerking my arm away from him.

Draco glared at me as I stomped out of the conference room and I glared right back, wishing I had something to throw at him.  
Ê  
He was still glaring twenty minutes later when he walked into his office and found me sitting at his desk. ÒWhat part of Ôget outÕ do you not understand?Ó he asked, more calmly than earlier, but still visibly irritated.

ÒMen who donÕt want unexpected visits to their office should not have open Floo connections to their sonÕs flats,Ó I replied haughtily with a tip of my head toward his fireplace.

ÒWell, you can just Floo your arse right back out of here. I am trying to run a business and have no time for your silly games.Ó

Merlin, he was pissing me off. I needed a job; he had jobs. Why the hell did this have to be such a big deal? ÒLucky for you, sport, this isnÕt a game. IÕm completely serious about working here.Ó

ÒWell, forget it. I donÕt mix business with pleasure.Ó

ÒNo problem,Ó I replied rising from his chair. ÒI was getting bored sleeping with you anyway. Now, IÕll just head back to the Public Relations Department and we can pretend your little tantrum earlier didnÕt happen.Ó I started to move around the side of the desk opposite from where he stood, but he cut me off, blocking my path to the door.

ÒYou didnÕt sound bored the other night when you screamed my name while I fucked you over the chair in your room,Ó he reminded me with a smirk.

ÒJust because youÕre good doesnÕt mean youÕre necessary,Ó I informed him. ÒI can get sex from a dozen guys. I need _this_ job.Ó

Draco shook his head, leaning towards me so that his breath was warm against my skin. ÒWhen you are a little older, youÕll realize that you should never give up good sex. It comes along a lot less frequently than one might suspect.Ó

I instantly knew that this was a life lesson I should make a point of remembering. However, fear of hunger, homelessness, and moving-in with my parents remained at the forefront of my mind. ÒYeah, well, you are the one who is making me choose between sex and work.Ó

ÒNo,Ó he replied, running his fingers along my jaw. ÒThere is no choice involved. I refuse to have you work here.Ó I couldnÕt believe he was trying to seduce me, after firing me and embarrassing me in front of my former-coworkers. ÒEven if we had never been intimate, your connection to Scorpius would make it impossible for me to hire you.Ó

ÒWhat connection? I barely know your son!Ó I wasnÕt sure why I had slipped into full bullshit mode, Draco knew I was lying. Maybe he would find it adorable.

ÒCute, Red, but it isnÕt going work. I am not hiring you. If you need some money, IÕll give you enough Galleons to get by on until you find another job.Ó He began to nuzzle my neck, classic Malfoy, Sr. distraction maneuver. 

ÒI donÕt want to look for another job. I like this job. It is perfect for my abilities.Ó

ÒAahumm,Ó he hummed, obviously not listening to me. He began to nip and suck at my throat.

ÒYou know, there could be a lot of benefits to me working here.Ó My body responded independently of my mind, arching toward him and brushing my breasts against his arm. ÒI could let you know what the average Malfoy Industries employee is thinking.Ó

ÒYou could never be average,Ó he groaned, unbuttoning my robe. 

I shrugged it off my shoulders. ÒBut I will be working alongside them. You could know about whatÕs happening from the bottom up. It might give you a new perspective and a new way to make money.Ó

ÒUnlikely,Ó he told me, backing me toward a couch that sat at one end of his office. 

ÒI could let you know who is stealing office supplies,Ó I murmured, undoing his robe. Some part of me, probably the Slytherin part, was screaming at me to hold my ground and not give in until IÕd gotten what I wanted. That part, however, was being drowned out by hormones that were begging me to screw him. Clearly, I had no willpower. I was going to have sex, job or no job. 

ÒThat is what wards are for,Ó he said, planting a kiss at the base of my throat, before pulling my top over my head. ÒFuck,Ó he breathed heavily, drawing in a deep breath, as he watched my breasts bounce after being released from my camisole. ÒI think a new dress code is needed for the office.Ó

ÒI can write it for you, if you let me stay,Ó I replied, unzipping his trousers.

ÒI can write it myself, Red,Ó he grinned, pushing me back onto the couch. He toed off his shoes, before lowering his trousers and boxers in one motion. 

ÒOf course you can,Ó I said, wiggling out of my slacks and knickers. ÒBut why should you when I can do it? It would be like you standing there tossing off, when you could be down here and buried between my legs.Ó

His eyes, heavy with lust, raked over me. I knew it was stupid to have sex with him in his office. This had to be confirming all his fears about the disruptions that would take place if I continued to work for him. Unfortunately, every time I was with him, I found myself having less and less control over my desire. I knew that it should have been moving the other way Ð that the newness and thrill of fucking my best mateÕs father should be wearing off Ð but it hadnÕt happened yet.

Bracing one arm against the wall, he leaned over and let his fingers trail along the outside of my folds. ÒMerlin, youÕre wet,Ó he moaned.

I spread my legs further apart. ÒDonÕt keep me waiting all afternoon, Malfoy,Ó I taunted. ÒI have a job to get back too.Ó

He lowered himself between my legs. ÒKeep dreaming, Red,Ó he whispered before his mouth covered one of my nipples.

My hands gripped his shoulders, while I raised my bum off the couch, thrusting myself eagerly against him.

He lifted his head and used his knees to spread me further apart. I waited for him to push into me, knowing that it would be hard and fast, but he just gazed at my face until I began to tremble.

ÒMalfoy,Ó I hissed, encouraging him to take me.

He silenced me with a punishing kiss that stung my lips and left me even more taunt with anticipation.

ÒYou can return to the P.R. Department tomorrow,Ó he said, his eyes never leaving mine. ÒBut this will be the last time anything sexual ever happens between us at this office.Ó

I nodded fervently, ready to agree to anything.

By the time he entered me with a deep thrust, we were both shaking with desire. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pounded into to me. It was too much and not enough at the same time. I gasped for breath, conscious only of the feel of his body on mine. I slipped my hand between us, fingering my clit and brushing against his cock as he stroked in and out. I shuddered, he tensed, and with a mutual shout of satisfaction, I collapsed as he spurted into me.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

  
Author's notes:

What happens when Rose gets close to her flat mate’s father?

* * *

I’m a woman of convictions.  Once I’ve made my mind up, I can’t be swayed by pretty faces or fancy words.  In fact, it’s rare that once I’ve committed to an idea that I’ll be persuaded by reason, a strong argument or even new evidence.  It drives my parents barmy.  While that isn’t the motivation behind my unwillingness to change my opinions, I like to think of it as a value added benefit.

 

My inability to be won over to new ideas, however, explains why I had such a difficult time accepting that Draco Malfoy was a fuckwad.  I’d decided after our first few sexual encounters that he was a decent bloke – decent for someone who has no problem cheating on his wife with someone less than half his age – and I had no intention of changing my mind about him.  I didn’t change my mind when all the female secretaries at Malfoy Industries referred to him as a rogue, a lecher and a scoundrel.  I didn’t change my mind when my parents talked about him as a conscienceless coward.  And I didn’t change my mind when Scorpius called him as a self-centered, egotistical, uncaring prick.  

 

I was certain that my view of Malfoy had to be correct.  After all, I had first-hand insight. Any contradiction between my understanding and that of the rest of the world was simply the result of my judgment being more accurate and less emotional than that of others.  

 

At least that was my belief until I saw Malfoy with his tongue down Astoria’s throat.

 

I’d been working several weeks at Malfoy Industries and despite Draco’s pronouncement that we wouldn’t be having sex while at work, we’d engaged in any number of lunch time fucks and a several ‘working late’ shags.  As far as I knew, none of my co-workers suspected anything, mostly because they thought Malfoy was currently dipping his quill outside the company ink well, so to speak.

 

Our secret sex life was possible because I’d gotten a promotion to the position of assistant event planner.  My supervisor, Owen Cauldwell, was in charge of scheduling and setting up all the social and publicity events for the entire company.  He took care of everything from the annual Halloween Ball to providing tea and biscuits for board meetings.  However, because Cauldwell thought Draco was an arrogant prat, he typically sent me whenever summoned to give a presentation.  In fact, that’s how I got to witness the sickening display of marital affection between Malfoy and his wife.  

 

Cauldwell and I had been sitting in his office planning out a menu for the tent Malfoy Industries was sponsoring at the Quidditch World Cup in a few weeks, when an interdepartmental memo fluttered into the room.  Cauldwell read it and then passed it over to me.  “Malfoy wants to sample the hors d’oeuvres we are serving tomorrow at his luncheon with the representatives from Gringotts.”

 

“Why the fuck does he even care?  Everyone knows that Goblins will eat anything that won’t kill them.”

 

“Rose,” Cauldwell said in that patient tone that I associated with most former Hufflepuffs of my acquaintance.

 

“Language?”

 

He nodded.  “You are never going to get ahead in this company unless you can exhibit the proper type of decorum.  You must remember that you aren’t in your common room any longer.  Being smart and talented isn’t enough.  You also need to be savvy.”

 

Merlin’s bollocks, I have more savvy and cunning in my little toe than Cauldwell has in his entire family tree.  Nevertheless, I smiled and tried to look like I gave a shite.  “I’m working on it.”

 

“I know you are,” he replied, patting my hand.  _Condescending tosser._   “Now go grab a plate from the kitchen and take it to Malfoy’s office.  Don’t forget to cast a warming charm on it.”

 

“You got it, boss,” I grinned, skipping down the hall in my eagerness to be off.

 

By the time I’d picked up the food and made it to Malfoy’s office it was a quarter to one.  As usual, I was stopped at the door by Draco’s secretary, Steven Carmichael, a former Ravenclaw who’d been at a seventh year when I started Hogwarts.

 

“So is the old man in?”

 

Carmichael gave me the same disgusted stare he always did.  I swear the pillock thinks he is responsible not only for Malfoy’s appointment book but also for helping him maintain an ‘air of dignity.’  As if that were even possible.  “How often have I told you, Weasley, that it is inappropriate to refer to Mr. Malfoy as ‘the old man’, ‘the old sod’, ‘the wanker’, or ‘the old plonker?”

 

“Hey, in my mind I call him as much worse,” I tried to joke.  I didn’t even make his lips twitch.  I swear everyone at this company must have taken a Wizard’s Oath to leave their sense of humor at home before Apparating to the office.

 

“If this keeps up I’ll be forced to report your conduct to the Human Resources Department.”

 

“I understand,” I replied with my best ‘you’ve intimated me’ look while at the same time flipping him the bird behind my back.  Yes, it is true; I am doomed to perpetually act like a fourteen year old.

 

He nodded, apparently satisfied at having secured my compliance.  _Stupid git_.  “You can go inside.  Mr. Malfoy is expecting you.”

 

I gave him my best apologetic smile, opened the door, and stepped into Draco’s office.  As the door swung shut behind me, I spied Malfoy standing by the Floo trying to suck his wife’s tongue down his throat and sporting an erection that looked capable of driving the Elder Wand through the grave of Albus Dumbledore with just a couple of taps.  “It’s so heart-warming to see a married couple who are still attracted to each other,” I drawled in my most sarcastic voice.

 

The pair broke apart with startled looks on their faces.  Malfoy quickly composed himself and smirked at me.  _He’s such a cocky bastard._   Astoria blinked several times and raised a sculpted eyebrow at her husband.  

 

“Darling, you remember Scorpius’s friend, Rose Weasley.”

 

Any lingering confusion on her face faded away and she assumed her typical haughty ‘I’m the premier bitch, so back off,’ demeanor.  “Oh, yes.  I hardly recognized you out of context.”

 

“Yeah, I’m the same with alcohol.  I never know I’ve drunk until I’m vomiting it back up.  That probably doesn’t count as context though, does it, more like flashback?”

 

Draco made some sort of choking sound.  I like to think he was covering up a laugh.  Astoria just ignored me.  Big loss.  I watched as she stroked her fingers down his face.  “You’ll be home early tonight?”

 

“Of course,” he replied, grasping her hand and kissing her knuckles.

 

She gave him a sly smile, nodded towards me, and stepped into the Floo.

 

“Well, that was moving,” I said, walking to his desk dropping the plate of food on it.

 

His eyes raked my body from head to foot.  

 

Usually, I found it flattering and a bit of a turn-on when he looked at me like I was his personal carnival ride, but right now it just pissed me off.  “Forget it.  Go home early and fuck your wife.”

 

His lips turned down and his eyes narrowed.  “You don’t seriously have your knickers in a twist because I was kissing Astoria?”

 

“That wasn’t a kiss; that was a cavity search.  You probably now know what she had for lunch everyday last week.”

 

Draco shook his head.  “Stop being a pain in the arse and get over here.  I haven’t touched you for three days and it’s driving me insane.”

 

“You are insane if you think I’m going to relieve whatever tension you worked up with _her_.  You’re just going to have to suffer for the next few hours until you can go home,” I said before turning and making my way towards the exit.

 

“You’re not serious!” he exclaimed, crossing the room quickly.  He didn’t touch me, but moved in front of the door making it impossible to leave without pushing him out of the way.  “You can’t be jealous.  She’s my wife!”

 

“Which is why you should be shagging her,” I huffed, side-stepping his idiotic jealousy comment.

 

“Bloody hell,” he exclaimed, looking more frustrated than I’d ever seen him.  I was glad he was exasperated, now he knew what I was feeling.  “My marriage contact requires Astoria and me to have relations at least once a year to maintain the bond.  She came by today with some sort of ‘lust’ potion to make sure I’d be in mood to fulfill my obligation this evening.”

 

“I don’t care if your _contract_ requires to you fill her fanny with champagne and drink a cocktail out of her, I’m not going to be the appetizer for your marriage feast,” I spat, detesting him completely at that moment.

 

“Fine,” he glared at me, moving away from the door.  “Go.  But I want you in the Board Room tomorrow to serve at the meeting with the Gringotts’ representatives.  Hopefully by then you’ll have come to your senses.”

 

“Don’t hold your breath,” I said reaching for the door knob.  “Actually do hold it.  Maybe then you’ll pass out, fall into a coma, and I’ll never have to see your pointy face again!”

 

He didn’t bother to acknowledge my outburst, so I stepped out of his office and returned to my department to sulk for the rest of the day.

 

Later that evening, as I thought back on my response to seeing Draco and Astoria embracing, I couldn’t figure out why it put me in such an awful mood.  It’s not like I didn’t know they had sex, but having it thrust in my face did make me wonder whether or not I was capable of being ‘the other woman.’

 

Obviously being ‘the other woman’ comes with a lot of expectations.  You need to agree to keep your relationship hidden, you’ve got to be open to weird schedules and fast fucks, you never have a date to family functions, and you know that the man you are screwing also holds, kisses and gets sweaty with someone else on a regular basis.  Let’s face it, ‘the other woman’, is essentially a doormat.  


 

Oh sure, I can tell myself that I’m the one in control, that everything is happening on my terms, and it’s cool to get away with doing something _bad_ , something that would send my parents to an early grave.  But are those slight thrills worth denying my true character?  I’m not exactly the shy and retiring type.  Keeping my mouth shut and dealing with the long term realities of this situation could easily drive me crazy.

 

Despite my uncertainty about the state of affairs between me and Malfoy, I dressed with unusual care the next morning.  Scorpius wanted to know if it was ‘bring your inner slut to work day’ at the office.  _Stupid git_.  So what if my heels were a bit higher, my skirt a bit shorter, and my blouse a bit tighter than what I usually wore?  I needed an edge to make it though the entire afternoon in Draco’s presence.

 

Of course, this fairly straightforward strategy blew up in my face.  It’s the story of my life.  I come up with a plan that I think will make things just a tad easier for me, but instead I end up with a trunk full of difficulties and headaches.

 

My problem started after lunch ended.  It had been a small meeting.  Draco, his Chief Financial Officer, and his Chief Information Officer, were representing Malfoy Industries, while Gringotts had sent two high level Goblin loan counselors, and Blaise Zabini, the Vice President of Mergers and Acquisitions.  I’d completely forgotten that Francesco’s father was a big muckety-muck at Gringotts.  

 

After eating, Draco and his team had taken the Goblins on a tour of Malfoy Headquarters and left me to entertain Zabini.  I’d cleared away the lunch mess and poured him a cup of tea before he bothered to start a conversation.  

 

“You’re new here,” he said, his eyes slowly traveling up my legs and stopping at my cleavage.  “I like that in a woman.”

 

“I’m not really new,” I replied.  “I was in Slytherin for seven years with Scorpius Malfoy and your son.”

 

“Oh right,” he told me, his eyes finally moving away from my chest to glance at my hair. “You are one of the Weasley brood.  I’m surprised your parents let you work for a former Death Eater.”

 

“I’m am adult; I don’t need my parents' permission for anything I do.”

 

He gave me a closed mouth smile which made him look like he was up to no good.  “I do like independent women.”

 

I smiled in return, thinking that Francesco would be lucky to be as smooth an operator as his father in twenty years.

 

Unfortunately, he interpreted my grin as a more enthusiastic response to his overture than I’d intended.  He got up from his chair and walked over to the wall near where I was standing.  “In addition to your newness and independent nature, you have the most gorgeous bone structure of any woman I have ever met,” he told me, trailing a finger along my jaw.

 

I’m used to getting compliments by men wanting to have a go with me – my eyes compared to the sea, my breasts to porcelain orbs, my hair to Titian’s painting of _Flora_ – but no one had ever before talked about my bones.  Needless to say, I didn’t buy a word of it.  A compliment accompanied by a light touch was a classic Slytherin pick-up maneuver.  “Don’t be too impressed, I got them from a _Victoria’s Secret_ catalog.”

 

He smiled indulgently at me.  “I can see why Malfoy likes having you around.  He’s always been attracted to spirited women.”

 

“And what have you always been attracted to, Mr. Zabini?” I asked.  I knew it would probably come off as flirting, but really, I was just born to be bad.

 

He placed a hand on the wall by my head, effectively trapping me between himself and the serving credenza.  “I am something of a connoisseur of all kinds of women, Ms. Weasley.  I’ve never found it advantageous to turn someone away because she didn’t meet some arbitrary standard of beauty, intelligence or charm.”

 

“That’s extremely broad-minded of you.”

 

“It’s the type of wisdom that comes with age and experience,” he replied, placing a thumb under my chin to make sure I was looking him directly in the eyes.  Another classic pick-up maneuver - it's supposed to make one look sincere.  “I have several other insights that I’d be happy to share with you, perhaps in a more private setting.”

 

I wanted to smirk because while I was flattered by the elder Zabini’s attention, I wasn’t the least bit tempted.  He was powerful, he was sophisticated, and he was attractive, yet he didn’t send my senses reeling.  Lately only one man had been able to do that.  My self-possession, I assumed, gave me the upper hand.  Too bad I had no idea what to do with it.  “I’m not sure that a private meeting would be very beneficial for me.  I’ve always been more of an active learner.  Sitting around listening to a lecture on ‘things to keep in mind while growing-up’ probably wouldn’t make much of an impression.”

 

“Don’t worry, my dear,” he responded, leaning closer to me.  “We can make it as active as you wish.”

 

Before I could reply, he had covered my lips with his and pressed my body back against the wall.

 

I gasped in surprise, which was a mistake, since Zabini took advantage of the opening to push his tongue into my mouth.  I thought about biting down, but something told me that wasn’t the best way to respond to an executive from the bank with which the company I worked for was trying to negotiate a loan.  Instead, I put my hands on his chest and gave him a push.

 

He didn’t budge.  He grabbed my wrists and held me against him while one his knees moved between my legs.  It happened so fast that I gave an embarrassing little squeak.  I worked to break my hands free from his grasp, but he held them too tight.  Just as I began to reconsider the entire ‘biting’ option, I felt Zabini being ripped off of me.

 

Malfoy had a hand against Zabnin's chest, pushing him away from the wall and back toward the table.  He glared at me.  “Go to my office,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

 

I would have loved to reply with some smart-arse comment, but I couldn’t think of anything.  I was too shocked by how angry Draco looked.  My gaze flicked from him to Zabini, who seemed amused.  _Bloody wanker._   “I still have some t-things to clean…”

 

“Now,” he barked, pointing to the door that led from the board room to his office.

 

As I trudged out of the room, I started to get annoyed.  I was annoyed with myself for playing games with Francesco’s father.  You would think I’d learned my lesson about teasing aggressive, older men from Malfoy.  I was annoyed at Zabini because, seriously, who comes on to a lowly assistant event planner in the middle of a multi-million Galleon business meeting?  And, I was annoyed with Malfoy.  How dare he be pissed with me for snogging Zabini when just yesterday I’d caught him with his tongue in his wife’s mouth?  

 

I started pacing his office determined to give him a huge helping of attitude if he dared launch into any hypocritical rant about my behavior.  By the time he finally stepped into the room twenty minutes later, I’d worked myself in quite a state.

 

“Rose…” he began.

 

“Don’t start with me!” I interrupted, not wanting to listen to a word he said.  “You don’t own me, Draco Malfoy.  I am free to do anything and anyone I want!”

 

“Is that right?” he growled, marching over to me and grabbing me by the arm.  “I suppose it didn’t cross that tiny brain of yours that you are my employee and that I’m in the middle of trying to reach a business arrangement with Gringotts.  An arrangement, by the way, which is in serious jeopardy now that I’ve manhandled one of the bank’s executives.”

 

“This is about your company?”

 

“Of course,” he replied through narrowed, but still flashing eyes. 

 

I didn’t believe for an instant that he was telling me the entire truth.  “Well, then, your problem is solved.  Wrap me up in a red bow and send me to Zabini’s office.  I’ll jolly him out of his bad mood and you won’t have to worry about this hurting Malfoy Industries any longer,” I spat.

 

Malfoy released a hiss through his teeth.  For the first time since I’d known him, I actually shivered in alarm of what he might do.  “Sounds like a splendid idea,” he dragged me towards his desk.  “But first I think I deserve a little something for all my trouble.”

 

“Let go of me!” I demanded, trying to pull away.

 

“I think we both know that is not going to happen,” he responded, pushing my head and chest down until they lay against the top of his desk.  He kicked my legs apart, while at the same time pushing my skirt up until it was over my hips.

 

Now I was too pissed to be scared. If Malfoy thought he could fuck me over his desk just because he was in a rage, he had another thing coming.  I fingered my wand.  The moment I heard his zipper go down, I was going to cast the most painful stinging hex to his bollocks.  It would definitely teach him a lesson about using sex as a punishment.

 

I tensed as his hands gripped my arse.  It was too rough to be a caress, but not hard enough to leave a bruise.  He leaned over me, speaking softly in my ear.  “Were you trying to make me jealous, Red?  Was this some sort of payback for yesterday?  Did you think seeing you in Zabini’s arms would drive me out of my mind?  Maybe this is what you were after all along, a vigorous display of my desire for you.”

 

“Sod off, you poofter!”

 

He took a step back, pulled down my knickers, and slapped my arse.  “Language, Ms. Weasley.”

 

My grip tightened around my wand as I waited for him to make his move, but he never reached for his belt.  Instead, he dropped to knees and nuzzled his face between my legs.  I gasped in surprise as he lightly ran his tongue along the outer folds of my cunt.  

 

“Merlin, Red,” he breathed against me.  “You are the most aggravating, hot-headed, mesmerizing witch I’ve ever known.”

 

“Malfoy… what?” I began, but lost the ability to speak as he pushed his tongue deep into my body while his hands stroked my thighs.  I released my wand and reached forward to grab onto the edge of the desk to prevent myself from tumbling to the floor.

 

I moaned loudly as he continued to lick and suck at my sex.  It flashed through my mind that this was too easy for him, that I should put a halt to it and demand a real apology, but then his lips found my clit and I lost my mind.  I rubbed and pressed myself against his face until everything exploded.  He stayed with me until I stopped trembling and my breathing returned to normal.

 

As I lay spent on his desk, I felt him cast a wordless cleansing spell.  He pulled my knickers up and pushed my skirt down over my bum.  He then grasped my elbow and helped me to my feet.  We stood staring at each other, neither of us speaking.  He looked as embarrassed by what had just happened as I felt.  Finally he glanced down at his watch.  “I have an engagement this evening that I can’t miss.  We'll talk after work tomorrow.”

 

I bit my lip and nodded.  I watched as he stepped into the fireplace and Floo’d home to Malfoy Manor.  As soon as he was gone I knew that I would not return the next day.  Something had changed.  All of a sudden whatever Malfoy and I had been doing was no longer a fun, little adventure.  There was something bigger going on and I wasn't going to risk a catastrophe of epic proportion for something that could never, ever happen.

 

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

  
Author's notes: Notes/Warnings: Language, WIP, Affair-Fic. Thanks to the Hysterical Hystorian for doing the beta work on this!  


* * *

I was awakened in the rudest manner possible Wednesday morning when Scorpius bounced his bum on my bed until I cracked open an eye.

“Piss off,” I grumbled, turning my head into my pillow.

“It’s a quarter till nine. You’re going to be late to work.”

“No I’m not,” I muttered, not bothering to look at him. “I quit.”

“What? Why?”

“Your dad’s a wanker,” I replied before I thought about how that might sound.

“I thought you never saw him?”

“I did yesterday and that was enough.”

“You can’t say I didn’t warn you,” Scorpius replied, a bit too smugly for my taste.

“Yeah, as usual, you were right and I was wrong. We should just get it tattooed on our arses to make it official.”

“No thanks. Tattoos are inappropriate for future political leaders. Now a nice tee, proclaiming my greatness might be a fitting way to commemorate this event,” he teased.

“Why are you in such a good mood?”

“Because today is the day the Minister announces which of the interns gets a spot on his staff.”

“What makes you so confident he’s going to select you?”

“I’m smarter than the rest of them, more ambitious, a harder worker, better looking…”

“More modest.”

“Which is _so_ not a requirement of a politician.”

I laughed. I love how quick the boy is with a comeback. “Well, be off. Go collect your laurels and when you return, we’ll celebrate another one of your achievements at the Leaky Cauldron.”

“Make sure to invite Francesco.”

“Do we have to?” I groaned. I didn’t need a Francesco around as a physical reminder of how the elder Zabini had completely fucked me over the day before.

“What? Did you two have another fight?”

“No, but you _know_ he won’t be able to shut up about me losing the only job I’m remotely qualified to do.”

“Suck it up and think of it as preparation for telling your mum. Besides, today is supposed to be all about me, not you.”

“How is that different from any other day of the week?”

“There’s my girl,” Scorpius grinned, patting the blanket that covered my arse as he stood up. “I knew your innate sense of sarcasm would eventually reassert itself.”

I rolled my eyes and snuggled back under my covers. Although it indicates a shocking lack of ambition on my part, I love the freedom that comes with being unemployed. I can sleep until noon, spend my afternoons hanging around Diagon Alley, and waste my evenings getting sloshed with my old housemates. Maybe instead of mentally cursing Blaise Zabini for screwing up my life, I should send him a thank you note for helping me break that nasty habit I had fallen into of working for a living.

Before I could go back to sleep, I heard Scorpius reenter my bedroom. “Bugger off, Malfoy. I already promised you a party tonight. If you also want a ‘good luck’ shag, you are going to have to pay for it.”

“Intriguing. What’s the going rate these days?”

Fuck, it was Draco.

“Fuck, it’s you,” I muttered into my pillow.

“Good to see you too, Red.”

I wasn’t surprised that he’d shown up at my flat. It’s obvious that Malfoy likes to call the shots in all his relationships, so booting him from my life or even just booting myself from his company wasn’t going to be easy.

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” I asked not bothering to look at him.

“I’d like to know the meaning of this,” he replied, dropping my parchment of resignation onto the bed next to my head.

I rolled to my side and scanned the missive. It read: _Dear Wanker, I quit. Please deposit my severance package directly into my vault at Gringotts since I plan on never stepping foot into this wretched excuse for a business again. Unsincerely Not Yours, Rose Weasley._

Wow. That was actually a pretty good letter, especially given how angry I’d been while writing it. Too bad being able to quit a job with ‘flair’ wasn’t the kind of skill I could put on my future resumes. “Which part do you need defined – quitting, wanker, or severance package?”

“I don’t have time for this, Rose,” he replied pompously, in what I was being to recognize as his, ‘I’m not amused’ voice. I suddenly recalled dozens of times Draco had used that same tone on Scorpius whenever the boy refused to blindly follow his father’s commands. No wonder Scorpius thought he was a prick.

“You don’t have time for what?”

“I don’t have time to jolly you out of whatever irrational funk you’ve plunged into. Take the morning off, but I expect you to be back at your desk this afternoon.”

My eyes widened slightly at his complete utter gall. I briefly considered bounding from the bed and throwing a tantrum. I would first demand to know just who the fuck he thought he was barging into my room uninvited. Then, I’d tell him to get out of my flat and never come back. I’d finally end my rant by casting aspersions on his parentage, his intelligence, and his sexual aptitude.

Of course, I did none of those things. Unlike my mother, I am big believer in not wasting one’s energy on lost causes. Besides I can’t fake the ‘tone’ of righteous indignation required for a successful display of virtuous outrage. That left me with two alternatives. I could either ignore him or mock him. Since mocking is one of the few skills I possess, I choose that option. “I used to expect that a fat man in a red suit would come down my chimney every December bringing presents but he never did.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and staring down his nose at me.

“I’m talking about how you are going to be majorly disappointed this afternoon, because there is no way in hell that I’m going back to work at Malfoy Industries.”

“Yes, you are,” he replied imperiously. “You need a job and I need an event planner.”

“I’ll find another job, you’ll hire another employee, and miraculously, the earth will continue spinning without me on your payroll.”

He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe I was challenging him. “While it is true that I could easily find some to replace you at the office, it would be highly inconvenient. Moreover, you – with only five weeks of work experience and a single N.E.W.T. – are not going to find a host of other job opportunities. If you consider the situation from a less emotional perspective, I’m certain you’ll see the folly of leaving Malfoy Industries.”

Merlin, he was such an arrogant bastard. His high-handed, know-it-all attitude, moreover, was really pissing me off. “What the fuck? Are you channeling my mum? Just because we’ve had sex doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do.”

He ground his teeth together, obviously unhappy with being compared to my mum. “I’m not telling you what to do, Red. I’m simply pointing out the very real advantages of your current position. Advantages you seem determined to ignore.”

“Maybe I don’t find getting hit on by your old school chums and then yelled at a value-added-benefit of employment.”

“That wasn’t the benefit I was referring to,” he replied, as his eyes traveled slowly down the length of my body and back up. For the first time since I met him, he looked like the lecherous sod he was. “Besides, Zabini never would have approached you if you dressed and acted more circumspectly.”

“What?” I couldn’t believe he was actually suggesting that I had encouraged Zabini. Well, alright, I hadn’t really _discouraged_ him, but Francesco’s dad was very much the aggressor in that entire situation. My possibly plunging neckline and slightly short skirt had been chosen solely for Malfoy’s enjoyment.

“If you are going to dress like a tart and flirt with every man over the age of fourteen, you are going to have to expect to be treated like a trollop.”

He was such a fucking hypocrite. He didn’t complain if I slutted myself up for him, but heaven forbid anyone else take notice of my ‘assets.’ “Maybe I like being treated like trollop, you pouncy git! Maybe later today I’ll even slag-it-up, Apparate to Diagon Alley, and see how many dinner invitations I can amass from older men looking for a bit of a lark. After all, I’m going to have to find someway to feed myself in the future since it’s difficult to purchase groceries without a job.”

“You are behaving like an immature child,” Draco declared, sounding angry for the first time.

“I’m nineteen! If you want mature, date someone your own age – like your wife!”

“I knew this was about Astoria,” he sneered, pointing a finger at me. “I’ve already explained just what the fuck was going on between me and my wife when she visited my office the other day.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t believe you. Besides, this isn’t about that,” I huffed, sitting up in bed. Actually, seeing him with his arms wrapped around his wife _was_ a big part of the problem, but there was no way in hell I was going to admit it. “Maybe, I’m quitting because I don’t like having to hide from my flat mate that I’m fucking his father. Maybe, I’m quitting because I’m sick of my cousins trying to fix me up with the overweight tosser who works the counter at Flourish and Blotts because they assume I’m not involved with someone. Maybe I’m quitting because I don’t like violating the _sanctity_ of your marriage. But, let this penetrate your thick skull, Malfoy, I _am_ quitting and there is not a thing you can do to stop me.”

In the midst of my mini-tirade, I’d risen to my knees on the bed so that I was almost at eye-level with Draco. I should have known better than to stare directly at a viper because he certainly didn’t back down from my challenge. Instead, he suddenly reached out and grasped my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Don’t test me, Red. You are not quitting,” he hissed, his lips almost brushing mine, “neither my company, nor me.”

0-0-0

I was in such a bad mood after Draco finally left my flat that I couldn’t go back to sleep. What was supposed to be a fun, feel-good affair had turned into something fucking complicated. I never should have started working for him. That had been monumentally stupid.

In fact, if one looked at _The Stupid Things Rose Weasley Has Done_ List, which I’m certain Albus keeps and my mum and brother help update, I bet going to work for Draco Malfoy would make it into the top ten. Probably it would fall between the time I charmed the family’s Christmas tree to dance then waltzed it into the fireplace where it promptly set fire to the sitting room floor and the time I tossed a cauldron of Befuddlement Draught off the top of the Astronomy Tower causing a clan Bowtruckles to lay siege to Hogwarts for two weeks. Of course, all three of these events were dwarfed by my initial decision to fuck Malfoy, but since no one but he and I know about _that_ mistake, it wouldn’t have yet made the list.

Feeling completely out of sorts, I decided to do the one thing guaranteed to get me feeling better about myself – go see my dad.

I knew he would be at the Ministry. For the last several years, ever since he took over recruit training, he’d been working regular office hours - Monday through Friday, nine to five. I knew Mum was glad to have him around the house more, but I think Dad missed field work. I was just happy that whenever I heard about an Auror getting hurt in the line of duty or a group of Aurors being ordered to track down a dark wizard, I didn’t have to immediately worry that my dad might be involved.

In fact, always being concerned about my dad’s safety was one of the reasons I grew up hating the Ministry of Magic. The other reason I hate the place is that I’ve always been in competition with it for attention. It was like having a smarter, better looking, and more entertaining older sister who got most of my mum’s affection. Is it any wonder why I’ve spent most of my life behaving badly? The wrong kind of attention is better than no attention at all.

When I walked into the Auror's reception center, I was surprised to see so many agents standing around chatting. Romilda Vane was working the front desk. "What's up?"

"Rosie! It's been too long. I guess that now that you are an employed woman with adult responsibilities we aren't going to see you around here much any more."

I made a face.

"No!" she exclaimed, understanding immediately.

I nodded. Romilda knew me better than any other adult in the world. I probably spent half of my teenage years pouring out my troubles to her. It was an odd choice for a confidant. However, she was the only attractive, single, female, non-family member I knew growing up. Besides it drove mum bonkers when I said stuff like 'Well, Romilda says…’ or ‘When Romilda was my age….’"

"What happened?"

"I quit. My boss was a berk. Seriously, I messed just one thing up and it wasn’t even completely my fault, but he acted like I'd purposely dropped his Crup from the top of the Gryffindor Tower."

"Well jobs come and go. Heaven knows I went through several horrid experiences before ending up here. Besides as long as you weren't officially 'fired' you can use them as a reference and end up with even a better job!"

"Maybe," I sulked. I was acting like an immature baby, but I don't deal well with disappointment. "It was a cool job and I was really good at it. At least I would have gotten really good at it if I’d had more time there to develop my skills."

Romilda furrowed her brow. I really didn't expect a plan of action from her. Mum would have already jotted down a list of fifteen things I needed to do immediately, but I didn't want to jump back on the broom right away. "If I were you, I'd probably just take a couple of weeks off. Relax, enjoy your free time and look around. There have to be other jobs like what you did at Malfoy Industries. You can use your family’s connections to land something similar at a different company later. Besides, I'm certain your dad is going to feel better knowing that you are no longer working for Draco Malfoy."

I rolled my eyes. "He was hardly my direct supervisor."

"Still, I know your dad didn't like it."

I nodded. It was no big surprise that Dad was unhappy about my job. Although I hadn’t seen either of my parents since starting to work for Malfoy, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Zabini would tell Ethan Flint, who would tell James, who would tell Uncle Harry, who would then tell my dad and mum. Although Mum had sent me a congratulations card for finding a job, she hadn’t been able to resist scrawling some rubbish at the bottom of it warning me to be careful. I doubted my frequent use of contraception spells since going to work for Malfoy Industries fit her definition of careful.

I glanced around the room again, struck by all the people milling about. Typically when an Auror wasn’t on patrol, he was hunched over his desk doing paperwork or off in the gym training. It was rare to see them standing around gossiping like a bunch of fifth year Hufflepuffs.

Romilda lowered her voice. "Rumor has it that the Minister is going to call for an election."

"Is he retiring?"

Romilda shook her head. "I doubt it. There is some sort of shakeup going on. He's been losing support for several months. There will undoubtedly be a challenger to his rule and the rumormongers are having a field day speculating on who it might be."

Interesting. I try to stay out of politics, but since so many of my family members’ are ambitious Ministry workers it’s impossible not to be aware of the divisions in the government. For example, I know that my dad and mum will resign from the Ministry should they ever have to directly report to “that wanker” Burke, Director of the Department of Mysteries. I also know that while my uncle Percy would give his right nut to be Minister of Magic, it’s never going to happen because you need to have a personality more animated than that of a kumquat to get elected. Uncle Harry could probably have a good shot at becoming Minister, but he won’t take it. "Have you heard any names?"

"Just the same old speculation as last time – Hopkirk, Gumboil, and Croaker. There is a rumor that Rufus Fudge might run try to win over the old guard, but I doubt he could unseat the current Minister."

I nodded. I wondered what Scorpius was making of all of this. He was probably eating it up. This was exactly the type of shit he enjoyed. He loved being in the thick of intrigue and stratagems. If the Minister was really going to be calling for an election, Scorpius’ decisions and actions could have real and lasting consequences on the political future of the Wizarding World. His ego probably wouldn’t fit through the Floo any longer.

"So is Dad around?"

Romilda nodded. "Yes, he and Deputy Potter just got back about fifteen minutes ago from a meeting at the other end of the floor."

"They were in my mum's office?"

"I think so. They were both rather tight lipped about it. However, I was told to contact Ms. Granger-Weasley's secretary if there was an emergency."

"Well, they are both braver than me. You couldn't pay me to talk to my mum today."

When it comes to politics, Mum is too much like Scorpius. Only for her it isn’t fun and games. It isn’t about wielding power for the sake of wielding power. Everything matters. It is all life and death. Winning means being able to do good and prevent evil. Losing isn’t an option. I know that I am supposed to admire her, but it all so wearisome. Not everything is a crisis, or a disaster, or an outrage. Moreover, the world is usually a perfectly acceptable place to hang out even if it isn’t spinning the way my mum wants it to.

Romilda gave me a sly grin. “You couldn’t pay me to talk to her on _any_ day.” I swear she’s more snarky about my mum than I am.

I gave a wave and headed toward my dad's office. Several of the younger Aurors called out to me as I walked passed. I shot them a smile, but didn't stop to chat. You couldn't _Imperio_ me into dating an Auror. With the exception of my dad and Uncle Harry, I’d never met a dark wizard hunter who wasn’t also a cocksure, self-centered, dunderhead. Besides, I don’t have the right temperament to sit by the Floo two or three nights a week praying that my boyfriend makes it home alive. If I ever get married, it will be to some boring, unassuming, accountant whom I never have to worry about and who will be so grateful to be with someone as cool as me he’ll submit to my every demand.

I knocked on my dad's door, but opened it without waiting for him to call me in. He couldn’t get angry because it was a trick I'd learned from him. You could claim you respected someone's privacy – hence the knock, but at the same time find out if they had anything to hide. Mind you that's why I started casting sticking charms on my door as soon as I turned thirteen, so I had at least four seconds after the initial knock to hide whatever or whoever under my bed before my dad burst in. Dad's door opened without a problem. He never had anything to hide.

"Rosie!" he exclaimed a huge smile crossing his face as he rose from his seat.

"Hey, Daddy." I walked into his arms and let him lift me off my feet like I was nine again instead of nineteen.

"Hi, Rose," I heard my Uncle Harry say from the corner of the room. I turned my head without letting go of Dad.

"Hey, Uncle Harry," I grinned. "Seems like I showed up on an exciting day."

Harry nodded toward the open door. "What's going on out there?"

"Everyone is just standing around in a little groups chatting. Although I do think Natalie MacDonald was making some sort of poster that read 'POTTER for MINISTER.'" Dad and I laughed when he blanched.

"I suppose I should get out there and make them all get back to work. You need to come by for dinner one evening this week, Rosie. Ginny and I don't see you enough."

"I'll try," I replied noncommittally.

"You could bring Scorpius," he said with a smile. "Or whoever else you might be dating."

"I am not dating Scorpius! Why is it so difficult for the family to understand that we are just mates. We have sex with each other just as often as you and dad did when you lived together after leaving Hogwarts."

Uncle Harry's eyes grew large and he blushed deeply. My dad, however, pushed me backwards slightly and pointed a finger at my face. "You had better NOT be having sex that often!" he tried to growl, but couldn't hide his smile.

I laughed and then we both laughed as Uncle Harry looked even more uncomfortable. "Well, bring Scorpius anyways, alright?"

I nodded. "I'll Floo Aunt Ginny later this week and set something up." Right after I pull out all my fingernails and bathe in a pool of bubotuber pus.

"Good," he replied heading out the door. "Ron, let’s grab a pint at the Leaky after work."

"Not the Leaky," I broke in before my dad could answer. "A bunch of Slytherins are going to be there this evening celebrating some stepping stone on Scorpius’ climb to wizarding greatness."

"Ugh," my father grunted, sitting back down in his chair and motioning for me to take a seat across the desk from him. "Let's meet at the Black Friar instead. They have better looking waitresses, anyways."

"I'm going to tell Hermione you said that!" Harry laughed, stepping out of the office and closing the door behind him.

Like my mum would care. She knows that Dad is only interested in her. She might frown when he made comments about other women, but she never got her knickers in a twist over it. It's one of the few ways that I wished to emulate her. When I'm with a guy, I turn into a jealous cow. Just witness my attitude toward Malfoy and Astoria. Of course, if I knew the guy I was with wasn't interested in anyone else maybe I could be like Mum, but I doubt it. I've got too much of the Weasley temper in me. Dad blows a fuse if Mum is even the slightest bit friendly with anyone of the opposite sex who she isn’t related to.

"So how's my working girl?" Dad asked with a grin.

"I can't believe you had to start with that!" I huffed. "Seriously, Dad, is that all I am to you now? A person who can earn her own keep? Why not ask about my love life or how Scorpius and I are getting along or whether I've adopted a pet or something?"

"Got sacked, did you?"

"No!" Seriously, my family thinks the worst of me. "I quit."

"Rose..."

"I had a good reason. I got yelled at by Draco Malfoy." Yes, I threw Malfoy under the Knight Bus. I figure my dad already dislikes him, so whatever I say won’t make it worse. Besides, I was still pissed at Malfoy for his attitude yesterday.

Dad's face turned red. "The fucking wanker. What the bloody hell did he yell at you for?"

"Something about messing up a deal with Gringotts. But really, it was NOT my fault. I mean, Zabini came on to _me_. If I had really wanted to mess up the stupid deal I would have kneed the jerk in his bullocks."

"Wait, Zabini? Francesco came on to you? What does he have to do with Gringotts?"

"Not Francesco. Francesco's dad. He's some high muck-a-muck at Gringotts. All the Malfoy executives were supposed to be kissing his arse, so when Zabini shoved his tongue in my mouth I didn't tell him to go fuck himself, like I wanted to, but just let him feel me up."

"I'm going to kill the bastard."

"I'm not going to tell you anything else if you keep acting like this. I can take care of myself."

"Obviously not!"

"Now you sound just like Malfoy!"

"What?"

"He walked in while Zabini was mauling me and got all pissed. He ordered me into his office, threw Zabini out of the building, and then yelled at me for messing up the deal. It was completely unfair. If anyone messed up the deal it was Malfoy!"

My dad shook his head. "Draco Malfoy stood up for you against an important business associate and then you quit?"

“After he yelled at me.”

“Unbelievable.”

"Are you taking his side?"

"I'm just trying to understand this. The head of the company you work for tries to protect you from a sexual assault, jeopardizes an important deal he's been working on, and then when he expresses his natural frustration about the situation, instead of apologizing or thanking him from coming to your aid, you quit?"

"I can't believe you are making me out to be the bad person here! You’re being as ghastly as Malfoy. I expected this from Mum, but not you."

Dad shook his head. "Look, Rose, if you don't want to work for Ferret Face any longer, I am not going to act like I'm not relieved. I don't like Malfoy, I don't trust him, and I was never very happy about you working for him. Still, I don’t think you are looking at this from the right perspective."

"Why is it that the right perspective is always the perspective that goes against me?!"

"Rose..."

"Fine. I'll consider what you said, but I'm not going to work for him again."

Dad nodded. "Understandable. Now, did you want to tell me anything else? How's your love life, adopt any pets lately?"

I giggled. Damn, I love my dad. "No. That's it. If you could break the news to Mum though I'd appreciate it."

"Just go down to her office and tell her yourself."

"No way! If you are scared to tell her, that's fine. She can continue to live in blissful ignorance."

Dad shook his head. "I'll tell her, but you should go down to her office anyways."

"Why?"

"She has some big news."

"Oh, Merlin’s tits, she's pregnant. Fuck. Aren't you both too old to have another kid? I mean, what if this one turns out like Hugo? Then it will be the two of them against me. And what if it’s a girl? Really, Dad, I don't think I can handle not being the only girl in the family. I wouldn't be special any longer. It already sucks that Hugo gets all the 'good' attention. There won't be any attention left over for me once the new baby arrives. And don't think you can ask me to babysit all the time, either. I have a life. You guys got into this mess by yourselves and you can get out of it."

My dad sighed. "Your mother is not pregnant."

I scowled. "Did she win some award or something?"

Mum was always winning awards, so I doubt anyone considered that big news any longer. It might be news if she was going to do the centerfold for _Playwizard Magazine_ or something, but that really wasn't her style.

"Nope. Just go down and ask her."

"I don't want to. Tell me."

He smiled. "Okay, she gets to tell Hugo, so I guess it's only fair that I get to tell you."

Maybe she was retiring. That would be big news, but I always figured she'd retire the day they pried her decomposed body out of her office chair.

"She's decided to run for Minister of Magic."

Oh, fuck.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

The moment I Flooed into the sitting room I knew something was wrong. Scorpius was in full pout mode, his bottom lip was hanging out, his hair was rumpled, and his posture was horrid. Francesco sat next to him on the sofa, rubbing his back and making comforting noises. Francesco is never kind to anyone except Scorpius. If the only time you ever met Zabini was when he was hanging out with Scorpius, you might actually mistake him for a human. The sight of the two of them – Scorpius wallowing and Francesco trying not to looked thrilled to have the opportunity to soothe his friend made me immediately set aside my problems.

"Who died?" I demanded.

"Really, Rose," Francesco snapped at me with a frown. He was obviously not pleased to share depressed Scorpius with me.

"I didn't get the job," Scorpius stated bluntly, refusing to meet my eyes.

"Why the bloody hell not?" I demanded. I am more than Scorpius’ best mate. I am also his cheerleader, his defender, his ally, and his biggest admirer. My determination to see him succeed in everything, made the worst stage-mother look like an amateur who was only mildly interested in her children's achievements. "I thought you were head and shoulders above all the other interns."

"I was. I am. Only there was _other_ considerations the Minister had to keep in mind when making his selection."

Merlin’s beard, he hadn't got hired because of the upcoming election. It was a clear as a tattoo on a Death Eaters’ forearm. "Fucking hell. He's worried about how it might get spun in the press, isn't he?"

Francesco frowned. He wasn't an idiot, but he didn't keep up with politics. "Why would the press care about some junior level employee of the Minister's?"

"Because there is going to be an election. If the Minister doesn't want to get tainted with the stigma of being pro-Death Eater or pro-pure-blood or whatever else the opposition might throw at him, he can not hire Scorpius."

Zabini looked about as offended as I felt. "Unfair! It isn't Scorpius fault that he comes from a long line of tossers. It's his reputation and experience that should be judged not the actions of his father and grandfather years ago."

I snickered.

"That sounded Hufflepuffy, didn’t it?” he pouted. Francesco hates to be laughed at, which is why I do it as often as possible.

"I can't even be mad at the Minister," Scorpius broke in to keep Zabini and me from getting into a tiff. "I would have done the same thing in his position. He gets absolutely nothing from hiring me but grief. He's so conservative that he's going to win the support of most pure-blood families whether or not I get passed over."

I must have snorted, because Zabini glared at me. “Give it a rest, Francesco, you know I’m right.”

“Right about what? What the bloody hell are you two thinking?” Scorpius demanded.

"Not only will the Minister NOT lose the pure-blood vote by passing you over, he'll probably get MORE votes from the pure-bloods. It isn’t like the Malfoy name carries much weight with the elites of wizarding society these days. Despite the purity of your blood, your father and grandparents final actions in the last war left you considered as much traitors to _the cause_ as my family." To tell the truth, I probably would have passed Scorpius over for the job if I'd been Minister, too. Not only would it make elite pure-bloods happy, but families like mine who’d never forgiven the Malfoys for aiding Voldemort in the first place would also like it.

"I am never even going to get a chance to do anything important, am I?” Scorpius asked running his hand through his hair.

As Zabini murmured some reassuring bullshite into his ear, I couldn't help but start plotting to take out whoever had gotten his job. It wouldn’t get Scorpius the position, but it might teach someone a lesson about taking a job they hadn’t earned. "So who did the Minister end up hiring?" I asked as nonchalantly as possible.

"Robin Wood. And no, you cannot do anything to him. That’s all I need to ruin my reputation forever."

"I wasn't going to do anything!" I exclaimed in mock outrage. "And even if I did, it's not like I would get caught."

"Rose, please. I can't deal with your plots right now."

Francesco was glaring again. I swear he’d wrap Scorpius in cotton wool and put a nappy on him if I wasn’t around to keep him in check. It was time for the both of them to stop wallowing and start planning. "You know, maybe getting let go by the Minister is for the best."

"What the fuck are you on about?" Scorpius asked annoyed at me. If he didn’t think it was for the best, he didn’t want me thinking it was for the best. After all, he was the one with all the N.E.W.T.s.

“I mean, it is better this way – in the long run.”

He shook his head. “How in the fucking hell do you think this is better?”

“Nobody likes to hear stories about how the rich, smart kid—”

“Good-looking.”

“What?”

“Rich, smart, and good-looking kid,” he said with just a touch of his usual arrogance.

I grinned, because he was so conceited even when sulking. “Okay. No one wants to hear about how the rich, smart, good-looking kid ended up becoming Minister of Magic. Everyone will sit around at cocktail parties saying ‘well of course he became Minister; just look at all the advantages he had. The boy has never had to struggle for anything his entire life.’”

“I’ve struggled.”

“Hardly,” I replied with a roll of my eyes.

“I wished you’d struggled a bit more before choosing to wear that tie with that blazer this morning,” Zabini commented snidely. I laughed, remembering another reason why I tolerated Zabini – I have a weak-spot in my heart for sarcastic people, no matter how annoying they are the rest of the time.

“My father and grandfather were Death Eaters! Don’t you think that has MAYBE been a handicap in my advancement?”

“It hasn’t been until now.”

“I need a drink,” Scorpius announced, before summoned a cheap bottle of firewhiskey out of the kitchen. He unscrewed the top and took a big swig straight from the bottle. I waited for him to choke or cough or grimace – after all he’s rather a light-weight when it comes to hard alcohol. None of that, however, happened. Instead, he smirked, gave me a wink, and took another drink.

“Very manly.” I was impressed.

He shrugged. “It’s been a hard morning. I’ve grown as a person and gotten some hair on my balls.”

“Prove it,” Zabini challenged a bit too hopefully in my opinion.

I got the conversation back on track. “Now, think about it. You are the smart, hard-working, guy—”

“You forgot good-looking again.”

“Shut the fuck up, Zabini,” I growled, growing tired of his interruptions.

“Well, you did.”

I made to shove my wand through the pissant’s windpipe, but Scorpius cast a shield spell to stop me.

“No blood on the carpet or I’ll never get the deposit back on this flat.”

I refrained from pointing out that the vomit stain in my bedroom probably had already cost him the deposit. “Anyhow, if there are no more interruptions,” I said, narrowing my eyes at Zabini, who refused to look up from examining his fingernails. “This entire incident is a good thing, because now, instead of being the guy who’s always had it easy, you’ll be the smart, hard-working, attractive man who overcame discrimination and other setbacks to become Minister of Magic.”

I was quite proud of myself for having found the silver-lining in this dismal situation.

Francesco wasn’t quite as impressed. “I doubt Scorpius’ ego would survive another such _setback_.”

Scorpius, however, was more contemplative about my point. "Even if you are right, which I am not yet willing to concede, and I will have a great story for later, that it doesn't get my foot in the door now. How am I ever going to have a chance of becoming someone important and doing something significant if I can't convince anyone in politics to give me a chance?"

I refrained from pointing out that the Minister had already given him a shot with the internship. Like most of my friends and family, Scorpius didn’t appreciate my ability to see the bigger picture when it went against his own analysis of a situation. Besides, I was Slytherin enough to know that you don’t win points with people or convince them to go along with your ideas by pointing out how they were constantly wrong.

"Well, it's obvious you need to forget about getting any help from the Minister." Francesco commented. "He isn't going to do anything for you. Maybe you should start looking for another department of the Ministry from which you could rise. Wasn't there a series of ministers who came out of Muggle relations in the early 1700s?"

"Sure," Scorpius replied, looking annoyed. "Of course that was when the Ministry was trying to implement that Statute of Secrecy throughout England and Wales. Since then there wasn't been a single Minister who has a background in Muggle relations."

"What about being an Auror or a Hit-Wizard?" Zabini suggested.

Both Scorpius and I broke out laughing. "Aurors only become Ministers during wartime. It's too risky a plan to earn my stripes as an Auror and then just keep my fingers crossed that war will break out while I’m in a position to make the most of it."

“In addition, wartime Ministers have a bad habit of dying while in office,” I pointed out.

As Francesco and Scorpius appropriately grimaced at my comment, I finally figured out the solution to Scorpius’ dilemma. What he needed was not to find a different path to eventual power, but to hook his coattails to a different Minister. "Oh fuck we've been looking at this all wrong."

Zabini and Scorpius looked at me. "How so?"

"What you need to do is go to work for one of the Minister's rivals. Go to work for someone who could use your reputation and heritage as a plus for their campaign, rather than as a detriment. Go to work for someone who is so desperate for diversity in the ranks of their supporters that they will not only let you volunteer for their campaign, but will also bring you into their administration after they defeat the current Minister."

Scorpius frowned. "What makes you think the current Minster is going to be defeated? And who the fuck would consider my family name to be an attribute, rather than a liability?"

"My mum," I told him with a grin.

Zabini's mouth dropped open. "Your mother is running for Minister of Magic?"

"Yeah. And one of her biggest weaknesses is going to be her perceived antagonism towards pure-bloods. If you were on her team, however, it would demonstrate that she was committed to blood diversity in the Ministry. It would also show depth of character or some such rot since she would be overcoming old prejudices by hiring the son of the man who tormented her in school."

Zabini's eyebrows quirked up. “There is no way your mother is going to be elected Minister. She got too much baggage."

"Like what?"

"You, for one."

"I'm not baggage. My dad spent all afternoon explaining how I could help the campaign.” I turned toward Scorpius. “I’m not baggage, am I?”

"What exactly did your dad say?"

"Just that I needed to be on my best behavior until the election is over and that I should try to avoid doing anything that might upset my mum. He also mentioned that he’d really appreciate it if I would not elope, hold a public intervention to convince Albus to stop being such a wanker, harass Dominique about being slag, get a facial piercing or tattoo, develop an addiction, get caught spray painting graffiti on the side of Hogwarts, or lose my meager savings in a Crup-fighting scandal until after the election.  
  
Scorpius shrugged a shoulder. “Probably the exact same lecture he gave Hugo.”

"Oh, shite! I am baggage! They should pack me up and ship me off to the States for the next month."

"Because heaven knows you were so much better behaved during those two weeks you spent in Atlantic City after graduation than you are here?" Zabini taunted.

"You are such a jackass, the only reason I even landed in jail was because of you and your stupid, ‘let's see how the New Jersey police react to us setting off Whiz-Bangs outside of the Trump Plaza.’ Fuckwad. Of course, abandoning me in my hour of need once the law enforcement officers showed up was a really classy thing for you to do, too."

"You KNOW I can't handle small cramped spaces, Weasley. Besides, I wouldn't have been any use to you if I'd gotten locked up."

"You weren't any use to me anyways. All you did owl Hugo, who told my mum, who sent my Dad and Uncle Harry over to bring me home. I don't think I've ever been so embarrassed in my life."

"Not even when you showed up topless on the cover of _Witch Weekly Magazine_?" Scorpius drawled.

"I wasn't topless! I was just not wearing bra under a wet tee! How was I to know that Fred was plotting to dump a jug of water on the head of every Slytherin who came into Wheezes that day?"

"The sign in the window?"

"Whatever,” I huffed. “Let’s focus on you, because I'm certain my mum's campaign could use you."

Scorpius looked interested. “Does your mum even like me?”

"Who cares? This isn’t about like. It's about politics and winning. She smart and knows a good thing when she sees it. She isn’t going to turn down any volunteers who are intelligent, hard-working, ambitious, and knowledgeable about the current Minister."

“You forgot good-looking again,” Zabini said.

Both Scorpius and I ignored him.

"Can you set up a meeting for me with her?"

"If you want, but she would probably prefer it if you took the initiative and just walked into her campaign headquarters to volunteer."

"Does she have a campaign headquarters?"

"No idea. Probably not. Let’s Floo to my folks’ house early tomorrow morning. I'm certain she'll be there strategizing with Uncle Percy, Audrey, and who knows who else before she leaves for the office. You can volunteer then. Besides, it will be fun to see her all anxious, rather than so damn cocksure about everything."

"Something tells me your mum isn't going to be that anxious,” Scorpius said. He was probably trying to give me a subtle warning not to get my hopes up about Mum being a mess of nerves. “Your mum is shrewd. She wouldn’t be running if she wasn't fairly confident she could win.”

“I don’t know,” Zabini speculated. “She might just have a grudge against the Minister. Merlin knows that Weasley women tend to carry grudges to extreme ends.”

Zabini was of course speaking from personal experience. He dated my cousin Lucy for three weeks before dumping her right before the Yule Ball in our seventh year. I’ve been told that he’ll forever have one testicle that hangs slight lower than the other.

“If this election descends into some kind of political, mud-slinging match, are you going to be able to help her? Does the minister have any weak spots that can be exploited? “

Scorpius nodded. “Dozens, but not all of them would be considered fair game by most politicians.”

“My mum can be ruthless when she needs to be. Just look at how she pressured me to find a job.”

“Yeah...” Scorpius nodded, obviously deep in thought. “I’ll go to your parents’ house with your tomorrow morning and offer my services to your mum. If she wins, it would be a much better stepping stone than if I’d ended up on the staff of the current Minister. He’s already got a large contingent of personnel working for him. It might take me years to gain a position of responsibility. You’re mum will be building her organization from scratch. I’ll have a much better chance of landing a significant position in the Ministry if I help get her elected.”

I was glad he was finally being to perk up. I hadn’t been looking forward to dragging him out to some dive where he could pick up a trollop and restore his manhood.

“By the way, what did your dad say about you quitting?” Scorpius asked, finally remembering my agenda for the day.

"You quit?" Zabini asked, laughing loudly.

I ignored Francesco. "Not much. He thought I reacted too hastily.”

"Why did you quit?" Zabini prodded again.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"So what you are going to do?" Scorpius asked.

"Why don't you want to talk about it?"

"Shut up, Francesco!" I turned back to Scorpius. "I don't know. I don't want to go back to work there, although it might keep me out of trouble until the election. On the other hand, this is great time to be unemployed. I can help my Grandma Molly with her garden, maybe take up raising goats. There are endless possibilities for a witch with my talents."

Zabini snorted and Scorpius gave me an encouraging smile, but there was no getting around my pathetic state. Of course, the worst part is that I can't even really start to fix my life or get back on track until I set things right with Draco.

0-0-0

When I stumbled out of the Floo into the Malfoy's drawing room it was close to 2 a.m. I didn’t have a clue what the fuck I was doing. Well, that wasn't exactly true. I knew what I was doing. I'd been thinking about what Dad had said about Draco standing up for me during the Blaise Zabini incident. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like Malfoy’s anger and yelling hadn't been directed at me messing up the deal as much as it was anger over me supposedly encouraging Zabini’s licentious behavior.

The idea that Draco had been as jealous of Zabini as I had been of Astoria was flattering. It was also a bit worrisome, because Malfoy and I aren’t exclusive. We are never going to be exclusive. At least we aren’t while he’s married and I’m me. And although I haven’t had sex with anyone else but him since our affair started, I liked knowing that I could be sleeping around if I wanted to. This fact somehow made me feel less trampy and pathetic about screwing around with someone who wasn’t really free to screw around with me.

Anyway, the realization that Draco had been acting like a jerk because he was jealous, and not because he could no longer hide his true jerk-like personality, struck me only after I'd already crawled into bed. Nevertheless, I felt like I needed to see Malfoy immediately to let him know I wasn’t mad any longer. So I'd pulled on a pair of shorts under the Tee I’d been sleeping in and Floo’d to the Manor. Just how I was going to find Malfoy without running into his wife, however, had me a bit flummoxed.

Don’t get me wrong, I know my way around the Manor fairly well. Scorpius, Francesco, and I spent many of our summer afternoons there. When we were younger the three of us would run in and out of the rooms playing ‘Find the Muggle’ and ‘Harry Potter versus the Death Eaters.’ When we got older we went through the rooms rifling through drawers and under cushions looking for loose change that would allow us to purchase amusing and entertaining illegal substances from the shops in Knockturn Alley. So while I knew where I was headed – the master bedroom – I wasn’t sure what I would find when I got there.

If I was lucky and Astoria was out of town, I could wake up Malfoy, apologize, maybe have some make-up sex, and then get back to my flat before Scorpius woke up tomorrow and wanted to go talk to my mum. If I was unlucky, I’d walk in on Draco and Astoria shagging, start casting _Obliviates_ , get thrown into Azkaban for buggering up the spells, lose my mum the election, and ruin Scorpius’ future.

I knew I should turn around and immediately go home rather than run stupid and unnecessary risks, but since doing the smart thing was in conflict with what I wanted to do, I naturally went with what I wanted. Besides, I was already in the Manor so it wouldn’t hurt to just peek into the master bedroom. If Draco was alone, there was no problem. I could talk to him and stop feeling guilty. If he wasn’t alone, was engaged in marital intercourse, or was just enjoying the afterglow of intercourse, I could return to my flat without anyone being wiser. It seemed like a decent plan. Of course, everything sounds like a good plan when your conscience is keeping you up in the middle of the night.

I cast a Disillusionment Charm on myself and crept up the stairs, glad the Malfoy's staircase was broad and covered with a carpet that muffled all sound. Supposedly, Draco had insisted on the carpeting when Scorpius was a toddler in order to keep the boy from harming himself in a fall. I figured that he was probably more inspired by a desire to avoid squeaking steps when sneaking in and out of the Manor.

When I made it to the master bedroom the door was shut. I reached out and slowly turned the knob until it clicked open. Once it was unlatched, I pushed it open just enough to get my head into the room. My eyes had already adjusted the darkness, but even so it was hard to make out exactly who, if anyone, was in the bed. The Malfoys have one of those huge four posters with dark, heavy draperies. It was very Charles Dickens of them.

I had to enter the room further if I was going to see if Draco was alone. I wedged myself through the door and quietly walked toward the bed, about half way there I tripped over some object on the floor almost went to my knees. I caught myself in time and managed to remain upright, but my heart was racing like I was on the run from a prefect.

Once I was within two feet of the bed, I could tell that both Malfoy and his wife were fast asleep. Thank Merlin they weren't cuddled together because my stomach was already feeling queasy. Instead, Astoria was lying on her back with a sleeping mask over her eyes and the bedspread pulled up tightly under her chin. Malfoy on the other hand was lying on his side, facing the door. He appeared to be wearing silken pajamas with only the sheet draped over his waist.

I knew I needed to turn around, get the hell out of Dorset, and figure out some other way to see Draco, but he was so close to me that I didn’t want to leave. I wondered how much noise he would make if I shook him awake. He'd probably go all paranoid berserk the way my Dad does when he’s startled from sleep. Dad blames Auror training for making him so edgy, but I figured it was really due to the war. Draco had lived through the war, too. While it’s hard to imagine my dad having much in common with Malfoy, both of them still being twitchy from prolonged contact with Voldemort was probably a given.

I considered levitating him out of the room and then waking him up. However, since my levitation skills aren’t brilliant, I could just as easily drop him on the floor or run him into the wall. And while dropping Malfoy on the floor might be amusing it wouldn’t do much for my attempt at stealth.

Eventually, I decided to put a Silencing Charm on Draco, cast a Shield Charm around Astoria, and hope that the combination of these two precautions would keep her asleep when I woke Malfoy.

After quietly casting my spells, I lightly placed one hand on Draco’s right arm so I could clamp down on it should he start swinging. I then shook his shoulder with my other hand. His eyes flew open and he stared at me in disbelief and some other emotion which might have been fear. His eyes darted toward his wife and upon seeing the shield spell around her; he grabbed my left wrist, stood, twisted my arm behind me, and dragged me from the room.

"Fuck," I hissed under my voice, jerking away from him, as soon as the door was shut. "What was that for?"

"Shut up," he mouthed, before realizing I’d placed a silencing spell on him. His brows slammed together and he grabbed me by the arm again, pulling me down the stairs, and into the library. He locked the door, cancelled the effects of my Silencing Charm, and cast an Imperturbable Charm on the room. "What the hell are you doing here? Have you gone mad?"

Okay. That was probably a fair question. Now that I thought about it, breaking into my married lover’s house and sneaking into his room, while he and his wife were sleeping together in the same bed was probably not one of my best moments. I decided to answer his second question first. "I might be."

"Damn it, Rose. This is my life you are screwing around with."

"You are the one who invited me into it!" I reminded him. "You are the one who said I couldn't just walk away."

"There are rules for these types of relationships."

"I never got a copy of the playbook."

He glared at me. "What are you doing here?"

"Ur... I thought I should apologize."

Both his eyebrows arched up. He obviously hadn't been expecting that. "Fine. Apology accepted. Now leave."

"Wait! You don't even know what I'm sorry about."

"I'm just going to assume you are sorry about all the stupid things you've done over the last week. Now goodbye."

"Why are you being such a prick?"

"Why am I being a prick!? You aren't serious? You just broke into my home and invaded my bedroom. Had my wife been a light sleeper, she would have thrown a tremendous fit that would have landed us both into a world of pain."

"I don't see why it would be painful for me," I replied snidely, since his attitude was starting to get on my nerves. “After all, I haven't done anything wrong. I am free to have sex with whoever I want. You are the person breaking your marriage vows."

Draco glared at me.

"Besides," I continued, deciding to ease his conscience a little bit, because after all I did owe him _something_ for waking him in the middle of the night. "I don't see what you've done that is so wrong either. You told me that you and Astoria had an arranged marriage and that you only needed to have sex once a year to maintain the bond. Surely she suspects that you aren't celibate the other 364 days."

He was silent several seconds and just stared at me. I knew then that the entire marriage of convenience line had been a lie. I pretty sure he knew I’d just figured it out, too. I was reluctantly impressed that his next words to me were neither another lie, nor an admittance of the previous untruth. "No matter what the state of my marriage, Astoria would be shocked and legitimately offended to know that one of my indiscretions had visited me in her home."

_Wanker_ , I thought, but managed not to say it. "You know," I said. "You don't seem very glad to see me."

He shook his head. "Red. You are nothing but trouble. Mind you, I've been drowning in trouble my entire life, so you are just part of a long string of tribulations."

"I suppose I should go then," I stated, in what I hoped came off as sad and slightly offended tone, rather than as me being constipated.

Draco nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow at work and we can talk then."

I frowned. "I'm not returning to Malfoy Industires."

"Of course you are," he replied, his brows furrowing in displeasure.

I shook my head. "No, I can't work with you. It isn't good for me."

"It is bloody well good for you. I'd like to see you land a comparable job."

"Oh, that is real nice!” I grumbled. "I'll have you know that my skills are widely sought after."

Draco rolled his eyes and didn’t even bother to comment on what he rightly suspected was a lie.

"You don't believe me!"

"Of course I do. I'm certain you could land a nice little gig at your uncle’s joke shop. Or maybe your parents might arrange an unpaid internship for you at the Ministry. Either of which will be positions where you will stagnate and be bored. You had the perfect job working for me. Why in the world would you want to let that go?"

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "I don’t know. It must be because my boss is an arsehole who likes to yell and blame others for his mistakes."

"You are really pushing your luck now, Red," he murmured.

"I am?"

"Yes," he growled, grabbing me by the upper arms and pulling me into a kiss. It felt good – probably too good if I wanted to go on pretending that whatever was going on between Malfoy and me was casual.

When he finally released me, I had momentarily forgotten what we had been arguing about. Of course, Malfoy, being a pillock, not only remembered, but couldn’t stop himself from gloating. "I knew I could convince you stay with Malfoy Industries."

"You haven't convinced me of anything! Just because I kissed you don't mean I want to be sold back into indentured servitude. I am not going to work for you any longer. I have a new job."

“Do you even know what indentured servitude is?”

“Of course I do!”

“Well, you are using the term incorrectly.”

“Bugger off.” There was no fucking way I was going to admit to having only the vaguest clue what an indentured servant was.

Draco snorted. "Fine. Where is your job?"

"That's none of your business."

"I'm making it my business. Now tell me where your job is."

“I… I’ll be…” Bloody hell. There had to be something I could do. When it hit me, I smiled broadly at Malfoy. “My job is helping one of the reform candidates defeat the Minister of Magic in the upcoming election.”

“Oh great. You've taken a volunteer position where you’ll learn all about self-righteous indignation, intellectual condescension, false pride, and how to take the idiots in the counterculture seriously. You’ll be a joy to be around. What happens if your candidate wins? Were you promised some sort of social secretary position?” he sneered.

"Whatever I get, it will be better than a pale, thin, prick up the arse."

"Damn you, Red," he growled and pulled me tight against him.

I could have struggled. I think he wanted me to, but I wasn't in the mood to waste any more time. "What is it, Malfoy? What exactly do you want from me?"

"Merlin if I know. You drive me crazy, but when you are close by I go mad with desire. I want you so bad that I’ve been spending half of my time these days maneuvering to get your knickers off."

I laughed. “Well, you are definitely skilled at that part. What happens the other half the time?”

He shook his head. “The rest of the time, I am sitting around trying to convince myself to just forget you, to send you a kiss-off note, and push you out of my life before you bring me down.”

Maybe I should have been offended by his admission that he wanted to ditch me. However, I was too busy being flattered by fact that he couldn’t make himself do it. “That part doesn't seem to be succeeding too well.”

“No shite. I've never been good at ignoring what I want or resisting what is bad for me. If I crave something, I go after it, even when I know it is dangerous.”

That sounded just like me. “So, I'm irresistible?” I grinned.

“Unfortunately.”

I laughed again. Damn, but he made me feel powerful and wanted and strong and sexy and everything that I thought I wanted from a man. And for some reason, the fact that I was getting this from someone who wasn’t supposed to be mine and whose presence in my life would horrify my family, made it all the sweeter. "You always say the nicest things."

When he crushed his lips to mine, there wasn't any of his usual finesse. It was all about domination and rage and lust. It made me weak in the knees. His fingers dug into my arms and his tongue plundered my mouth; he tilted my head back until my neck ached. He moved a knee between my thighs and ground his pelvis against mine. He was already hard and I thrilled at getting him to this point so quickly. When he finally pulled his head back, I groaned at the loss of his lips. I could hear his breath coming as hard as mine.

"You're going to be the death of me, Red."

I twisted out of his grasp and sank to my knees. "But what a way to go, huh?"

I push his bottoms down slightly and pulled his cock from his pants. I felt sexy as I looked up and saw him focused intensely on my actions. I grasped the base of his cock with one hand and licked up and down its length several times until I felt Draco shudder against me. Only then did I take him into my mouth. I sucked and bobbed and kissed up and down his length. He moaned loudly and when I glanced up it was to see his eyes focused on where we were joined together. For some reason that got me hotter and I increased the pressure and pace of mouth against him.

I knew from experience that he could last longer than my cheeks would hold out. Therefore, I usually didn’t get too enthusiastic too early, but I was determined today to make him scream. I reached up and pulled on his bottoms and pants until they were around his ankles, I then grasped his arse, caressing and stroking it. He started to tremble and I worried briefly that he was about to step away before I could finish him off, instead he dug his hands into my hair and began to murmur some of the filthiest words I'd ever heard him utter. When my nails dug into his arse, he froze briefly, grunted, and then came with hot spurts into my mouth.

I sat back on my hunches and wiped my spit, sweat, and his spunk off my lips. I watched his face as he slowly reopened his eyes and stared at me. I wasn't sure what would happen next. It was very possible he'd ask me to leave. After all, his wife was in the house just upstairs from us. He might get angry and demand again that I return to Malfoy Industries. It was even possible that this was it – that after tonight he wouldn't trust himself around me any longer.

Before I could run through a thousand more scenarios in my mind, Draco said, "Strip."

I blinked.

"Now, Red. Get your clothes off now."

I did as he told me, wrenching off my top and bra in one go then wiggling out of my shorts and knickers without rising from the floor. Malfoy watched, while also removing the last of his clothing. When we were both naked he joined me on the floor, stretching us out on the Persian rug and running his hands over my breasts, down my belly and between my thighs. I arched into his hands, pushing myself against his flesh. I needed him between my thighs. While I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that it was much too soon for him to be hard again, I _had_ to get off immediately or I was going to lose my mind.

Luckily, Malfoy didn't need a road map or lots of hints to know what I was all about. He shoved his thigh between my legs and sucked on my breasts as I rubbed my clit against his bare skin. I set the pace, but he picked up on every cue, biting lightly on my nipples when I need further stimulation, grasping my arse tightly when I started to shudder, and grabbing my hair to pull my head back so he could attack my neck when I bucked against him. Before the clock chimed the three a.m., I was as sated and content as he was.

Neither of us spoke for a long while as our breathing slowed and heart beats calmed. I eventually rolled over onto my back, breaking away from him so the air could cool my skin. "I think I'm jealous of your wife," I admitted.

He made no reply.

"It's stupid, I know. But when I saw you with her the other day at the office, I went a bit crazy."

"You are always a bit crazy."

"I went a bit MORE crazy. I'm not sure I can keep this up and it isn’t because I don't understand the rules. I do. I just don't think I can abide by them. I was never very good at sharing. Ask Hugo, or Scorpius, or any of my cousins."

Draco was silent for a long while. I waited for him to tell me goodbye and that it had been fun. Maybe he would wish me luck or try to convince me that I could get past my selfishness, but he said nothing. When I turned my head to look at him, he wasn't looking at me, but at an ugly painting of an English landscape that hung over the fireplace. "I went a bit crazy, too," he finally admitted. "When I walked in on you and Zabini kissing, I wanted to run my wand through the blaggart's black heart. Your resignation letter and your attitude when I went to your flat this morning convinced me that it was only a matter of time until I'd completely lost you. In the normal course of events, I usually find it a relief when one of my extracurricular relationships dies a natural death. It keeps things from getting too messy. But it wasn't okay with you. I'm not prepared yet to let you go."

"We are definitely at something of an impasse, then."

"Apparently."

"So where do we go from here?"

"Red, perhaps you never learned what an impasse means."

"Alright, fuck, alright. Forget that I asked. I'm going home."

If I thought that might get him to make some sort of declaration or promise to leave his wife, I was bound to be sorely disappointed. I stood and began to quickly dress. He pulled up his pajama bottoms and pants then sat on the edge of the desk until I’d finished.

"Well, this has been fun," I stated as ironically as I could. It made him smile.

He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me toward him. He kissed me gently and the lips and the rubbed his nose against the side of my face. "I'm glad you came over tonight."

"Me, too."

"You can see yourself to the Floo?"

I nodded.

"I'll be in touch soon."

I nodded again, but didn't trust myself to say anything. Really what was there to say? We were a fucking mess - an awful, horrible, no good mess. Even if I believed in such things as fairy godmothers or wishing on a star, I had no clue what to wish for. No clue what would ultimately make me happy or what I wanted. Worst of all, the only person I had to blame for the situation was me.

TBC


End file.
